


When The Day

by demonheathen (feralbunny)



Series: Red Dead Epsilon [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha John Marston, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Bisexual John Marston, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, John Marston Deserves Happiness, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oh No He's Hot, Omega Arthur Morgan, Rutting, Scenting, Slow Build, Social Anxiety, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 121,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralbunny/pseuds/demonheathen
Summary: John Marston Matthews has been accepted to New Haven University, three hours from home. His parents urge for him to attend, do better and become the best example for his younger brothers. Abigail encourages him to do the same while she works in town.They all promise he'll have the best time in college, even as an Alpha. It all begins on the first day.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Bessie Matthews/Hosea Matthews, John Marston/Arthur Morgan, Mary Gillis Linton/Arthur Morgan, Susan Grimshaw/Dutch van der Linde
Series: Red Dead Epsilon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990303
Comments: 23
Kudos: 47





	1. Black Leaves

John sat in the backyard, tossing the ball for Old Boy to retrieve and bring back. The runt of a fox, an animal that was hard to explain when they went to the vet, scampered across the ground to retrieve the ball then come back. 

"Good boy," John said, lunging to grab his wild pet. Old boy hissed playfully, being swaddled in the crook of his owner's arm. 

"You gonna miss me?" he asked, his hand going claw-like to scratch at Old Boy's belly. 

The fox yipped and nipped at John's hand, tail swishing in response. John continued scratching, making his way up to scratch at Old Boy's ears before letting him go. Even with his brothers around, John was nervous with leaving Old Boy around. He'd get ignored, like John feared. Still, he grabbed the ball and tossed it again for his oddball of a dog. 

"You can come with me, ya know. You and me can rough it in the car for the first semester." John watched Old Boy skitter up and dash across the yard again. He sat forward, resting his chin in his hand. "Then we could move off campus, go part-time." 

"No and no, John Marston," Abigail called from the front gate. She closed it shut behind her, drawing Old Boy's attention away from the ball. John looked over his shoulder to his girlfriend, pushed to his feet as Old Boy dashed at her. "Old Boy!" 

Abigail knelt down, arms open for the dog-fox to hop into her arms. John stood by, watched his dog take all of the attention away from his girlfriend. Arms crossed, he tilted his head with a smile. 

"How was work?" 

"Awful. I swear if Mr. McFarlene doesn't give me my hours this week, I'm leaving for real this time." Abigail slowly stood up, holding onto Old Boy in her arms. She casually blew away a strand of hair from her face that fell from her messy bun. Her diner uniform was hidden with John's old suede bomber jacket from high school. She'd kicked her shoes off in the car and was barefoot in the lush grass. 

"Shame. You should've quit a long time ago. You know you could still come with me," John added, dropping his hands to stuff them in his pockets. 

Abigail shook her head. "I'm good with my schedule. I can't sit down and focus without a lot more discipline." 

John started to turn away, ready to head inside. Abigail kept up with him, swaying Old Boy in her arms like a baby. "You finished packing, right?"

John slid the back door open, letting Abigail inside as he nodded at her question. "Yes ma'am. Everything's by the front door." 

Abigail hummed in response, stepping inside to Mrs. Matthews. "Hi, Mrs. Matthews." 

"Hello dear, care for a cookie?" John's mom asked, pointing behind her to the main kitchen island. 

Abigail furrowed her brows and turned to John as he shut the door behind him. He shook his head. 

"She's stress baking again," John said casually, sidling by his girlfriend to grab two strawberry macadamia nut cookies. 

Bessie, Mrs. Matthews, turned around from the stove and swiped her hands on her waist apron. "I am not. I'm making sure you have a snack for the ride to school." 

"Momma, gas stations exist." John bit into his cookie, held onto it while he threw open the fridge. He pointed over to Abigail, and she shook her head. He grabbed a water bottle then bit off his cookie before giving his mother a side hug. "But thank you though." 

"No problem dear." 

"We're about to leave, I gotta pack the car. Is dad in his office?"

Bessie nodded and John broke away from the women to catch up with his father. He knocked at the half-open door, it creaking to show John's father leaned back in his desk chair asleep. John side-stepped inside, went over and poked his dad in the shoulder. 

"Dad, Abi's here. We're gonna leave soon." 

At that, Hosea jolted awake, his snore cutting off short and blinking before staring at John. "Abi's here." 

John smirked, nodded once. "Yeah. I'm gonna go load up the car." 

Hosea straightened up, pushed himself out his leather chair. "I'll help ya." 

After loading up the car, Abigail went upstairs to his room for a look around. She sat down on his bed, bounced on the creaky twin before flopping back onto the fluffy duvet. John stood in the doorway, shaking his head at his girlfriend curling up on her side and shutting her eyes. 

"Don't get too comfortable, we gotta get on the road."

"This is the last time you'll be here until Thanksgiving. You're not gonna miss it?" Abigail said, tucking her arm under her head as she stared across the room to John. 

"If my dorm bed is anything like that, no." John laughed at his own joke and Abigail scoffed, sitting up. 

"You're a cold-hearted boy, Marston." 

The two came back down the stairs, barely missing John's brothers rushing inside. Sean glomped onto his older brother, while Lenny waited for his own moment. John hid the exhaust of goodbyes, returned his brothers' hugs before finally being squeezed by his mother. 

"You call me as soon as you get there. Not even before you get to the dorms. As soon as you see the school sign." Bessie rested her son's head to her chest, held him tightly. 

"Okay mom," John said, his hands falling from around his mom to flail at Sean to pull Mom away. 

Sean and Lenny did their best, finally prying Bessie from John. Hosea waited by the open front door, nodding for John and Abigail to step outside. 

"You be good. You can call us if you need anything," Hosea said, pulling John aside with a stern hug. 

"Yes sir." John nodded, taking his father's hug with clearing of his throat. 

At the exit for New Haven University, the sun was at its dusk. John had switched with Abigail an hour into the drive, leaving her to fall asleep in the passenger seat. The car ride was quiet, the radio whispering oldie songs from a CD he made for Abi. 

He rested his elbow on the door, his cheek in hand as he came off of the ramp and waited at the red light. The aura from the red began to dot onto the windshield, a mist starting to cloud over the approaching evening. John looked over to Abigail then reached over to nudge her awake. 

"You gonna be okay going home tonight?" He asked as Abigail slowly woke up. 

"Of course, it's not that far." 

"That's what you say, but you were practically asleep out of the driveway." John turned back to the road as the light switched to green. 

Abigail sat up, adjusted her chair while she looked through her window. "I'll just drink some coffee. I can't stay. I have a shift in the morning." 

"You can leave early tomorrow." 

Abigail turned over her shoulder with a grin. "What, you scared to be alone?" 

"No, that ain't it," John said, hand wringing the top of the steering wheel at the second red light. 

"I'll be okay," Abigail said, hand reaching out to give John's thigh a squeeze. "We get you settled in, then I'll be off." 

"Not even gonna stay for dinner?" 

Abigail scrunched her lips in a scrutinizing pout. "We'll have to see what's in town." 

John nodded, then grabbed his phone from the center console to hand over to Abigail. "Text my mom. Let her know we're in town and I'll call her when I'm settled." 

Abigail did as she was told, just as John pulled onto the New Haven University campus. He followed the signs to the dormitory, going over the speed bumps carefully as Abigail's car was back heavy. When they pulled into an empty parking spot, Abigail climbed out and went to grab John's bag. 

John shut off the headlights then grabbed the keys before doing the same, grabbing everything else he could from the trunk. They made their way inside as the mist began to gain weight. John held the glass door open for her, then followed after with his sneakers squeaking on the floor. 

He led the way to the main desk of the dormitory, setting his boxes down to pull out his ID. "John Matthews, checking in." 

The man behind the desk looked up from his book, shutting it with a squint at John's ID held before his face. "Hi Mr. Matthews. I'm glad you got here in time. I'm Charles. I think that rain is picking up." 

John glanced over to Abigail, who rolled her eyes at him then nodded to return his attention. The man behind the desk swiveled in his chair, grabbing a dark blue folder from behind him. He turned back and held the folder out for John to take. 

"In that packet is a map of the campus, this month's canteen schedule, our rules and guidelines for dorms and the sign up for the Rut/Heat Room. Unfortunately, that sign up is necessary before your first class tomorrow. There's also another map in there for the dorms themselves." 

John raised his brows, stared at the dark blue folder in his hands before he set it on top of his boxes. "I'll get back to you with that then." 

Charles nodded, turned to his computer to type something up. "When we do that, we'll also get your school ID done." 

He continued typing while John and Abigail waited for him to mention the room number. John leaned against the high counter in wait, watching Charles's plain face turn into slightly pinched expression. 

"Is something wrong?" John asked. 

"No, uh, no." Charles looked up from his computer monitor and back down. "I see that you originally requested an alpha roommate but the one pre-selected for you was rescinded." 

John hid back an 'oh', his brows falling. "So I don't have a roommate? How's that bad?" He managed to smile though it didn't meet his eyes. 

Charles hummed in slight amusement, flashing a quick grin before it fell back. "Uh, no. You have a roommate."

"So it's a beta?" Abigail spoke up, her tone hopeful. 

Charles slowly shook his head, reaching for a sticky note to write down the room number. "He's an omega. Recessive, but still." He looked back up to John and handed over the neon yellow piece of paper. "My brother actually. Sorry for you." 

John reached out for the paper with a dry chuckle. "That doesn't sound promising." 

"I'd give it a week, I'm sure it'll sort itself out then," Charles said, "Welcome to New Haven." 

John flashed a grin, "Thanks." 

He bent down to pick up his boxes then started down the lobby to the elevators. Abigail followed, stifling a yawn into her shoulder. John pressed the button and the doors immediately slid open. The pair stepped inside and John pressed the button for the third floor. He set his boxes down and rolled at his shoulder. 

"Did he say his brother?" Abigail asked mindlessly, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. Her head lolled against the wall, her eyes blinking slowly. 

John looked over his shoulder to his girlfriend, brows furrowing as he remembered the Resident Advisor's words. "Yeah, and he said he's an omega. Wouldn't that make him an omega too?"

Abigail shook her head. "Pure families are usually one or other. You should know that." 

John shrugged. "I dunno, I wasn't sure." 

Abigail casually clicked her tongue, straightening up at the lurch of the elevator. "I didn't smell him." 

John leaned towards his folder, giving it a tentative sniff. He shook his head. "It's not on anything he gave me. Maybe he's adopted?"

"We don't know that. How many recessives have we met?" 

John shrugged again, the doors sliding open to the third floor. He led the way down the hallway, Abigail dragging her feet until they reached the end of the hallway. "Here we are, 315."

The door was already propped open, the lights on inside. John ducked his head in, expecting to come face to face with his new roommate. Maybe an emaciated omega. No one was around. John stepped inside, taking in the slightly decorated right side of the room. 

The wall was covered in framed sketches, ripped pages from notebooks elegantly placed evenly. The bed was covered with a beige duvet cover and a blue and beige quilt. John raised a brow at Abigail before setting his boxes down on the floor. "We'll just leave it here for now. Let's grab something to eat." 


	2. What's So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Abigail attempt at a quiet dinner. John finally meets his roommate.

Abigail dropped the rest of John's things on his bare bed then followed him back to the elevator. John patted his pockets, handed over his girlfriend's cluster of keychains on a key. 

"Let's grab something from downstairs before you get on the road." John pressed the button, the doors of the elevator sliding open. Abigail stepped in with John following. 

The two were quiet, with John rolling his shoulders back with an exhausted groan. Abigail leaned her head on his shoulder with a hum, her face nuzzling into his shirt. John stiffened when she sniffed lightly at him, her face scrunching in distaste but never pulling away. 

"I'm sure you could just call in sick," John said, stifling a yawn in the corner of his mouth. 

Abigail shook her head, sniffing again and stepping closer. "Not if I want to stay on Mr. McFarlene's good side."

"That man has a good side?" John smiled, his hand creeping around Abigail's waist just as the elevator lurched to a stop. 

The doors slid open to the main lobby and John led the pair out to the canteen area. He'd remembered he left his phone upstairs in the room and tried to file away that he'd have to call his mom after Abi left. In the canteen area, the pair stood before the small counter, staring up at the menu. The cafe-style restaurant carried nothing but light soup, coffee and pastries. 

"Coffee sounds delightful," Abigail muttered as they stepped up to the register.

"I bet it does," John added before turning his attention to the unfortunate night worker. "Hey, can I get a bowl of your broccoli cheddar soup? And a soda. She wants a coffee."

Abi nodded eagerly, raising her head to look closer at the menu. "And two of your peach scones. They any good?"

The worker was a tired-looking girl, her brown-red hair tied back at the nape of her neck. She shrugged, offered a meek smile. "I like 'em. They're sweet." 

Abigail tentatively sniffed then sat up from John's hold. He stiffened in response, seeing her eyes brighten at the scent she caught onto. Her pupils dilated, leaving a faint brown ring of iris that reflected the bright light. "I bet."

John refused to acknowledge the same stench, seeing the effect it had on his girlfriend. He quickly switched to opening his mouth, breathing like a neanderthal as he pinched at Abi's nose. "We'll take 'em."

Abigail was entranced, barely acknowleding John's defensive tactic. Her mouth fell open with a taunting slurp, effectively warning any omega working through a heat that an alpha was aware. John managed to search through his pockets for his wallet, fishing out a twenty dollar bill and holding it in the direction of the cashier. 

He narrowed his eyes at the girl as she took it, seeing over her shoulder to the other worker holding onto the back counter. "They're in heat. Send 'em home." 

The cashier stammered to respond, her mouth open before she looked over her shoulder to her coworker slowly falling to their knees. John stepped away, dragged Abi away with him and tried to find a table as far away from the two workers. 

He waited for Abigail to snap back to her senses before he pulled his hand away. John raised a brow at her, shaking his head before he gulped and spoke. 

"I thought you could handle yourself around omegas." 

Abigail folded a hand to her forehead, dragging her palm down over her face. "Yeah, most of the time." 

John waited her for her to explain further, though he knew what she meant. It was rare that an omega was in public during heat, most of the time they'd learned to lock themselves away. He urged Abi to sit, then went back to the food counter to wait for their food. 

Mouth agape again, he leaned his back against the counter, staring at Abigail regain herself. Her hand clawed into the table, her jaw clenching as she muscled through the air bearing more heat. John clammed up, shutting his mouth again and eventually holding his breath to not be affected by the worker forcing herself to her feet and getting back to work. 

The cashier brought a tray of food to the counter with a polite smile, her eyes turned down in a remedial apology. John whipped around quickly, took the tray from the cashier, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide. He backed away from the counter, then nodded to Abigail for them to leave the canteen lobby. 

They made it to the elevators before they succumbed to their crippling lungs needing a fresh breath. John seethed through his teeth, setting down their tray on a lobby table and growled to himself. 

"Goddammit," John said, exasperating his breathing. 

Abigail was more strained, sitting down with a heavy exhale. She reached for her coffee, bringing it to her lips with a grimace. The worker touched the lid with her bare hand and the scent was more enticing than the coffee. She pulled off the lid and took a hefty gulp of the straight black bean juice, not pausing to taste. 

John managed to sit down, his leg jostling as he reached for his soup and spoon. He unwrapped the plastic utensil, pulled the lid from his soup and shoveled the thick soup into his mouth. The pair were quiet, dampening their agitation from the nearby omega in heat with gorging on food. 

John took to scraping the remnants of soup into his mouth with his spoon; Abi broke her scone in half and offered part of it to her boyfriend. He looked at it as she did, both shakily inhaling at the fruity scent now saturated and syrupy. It was almost sickening, nothing appetizing as the glaze on the scone reflected the harsh overhead lights. 

Still, he took it, forcing it into his mouth to eat though it wasn't enjoyed. It only kept back the cloying scent of the omega. Neither of them spoke of it, just let the moment die until they were ready to move again. 

"Thanks," Abigail began, pulling her eyes from the floor. "For the snack. I should get on the road."

John nodded. "You'll call me when you get home?"

"Course." Abigail stood up. John followed, his arms curling around his companion with a deep inhale of her hair. 

It was nothing compared to the sweet dew that was remnant in the air, he knew, but he stomached through it the same. John enjoyed Abigail and her company. He pressed his lips to her temple, gave her a comforting squeeze. 

"I'll see you later," Abigail said when they broke away from one another. She poked John square in the chest, stared at his pristine complexion and dark hair framing around his face. "Don't let that omega bother you. You get it fixed."

"Yes ma'am," John said, casually bringing his hand up to salute. 

She hummed in amusement, stretched up on her tiptoes and pecked his nose. "Be a good boy, John." 

"Always am." John retorted. 

Abigail backed away from him, gave him a wave as she rounded down the hallway to the main entrance. He watched her go, standing by the elevator before she was out of sight. John grabbed the tray and remaining trash, returned it to the canteen then made his way back up to his dorm. 

He groaned when the doors closed, his body’s exhaustion finally settling in. John patted his pockets then remembered his phone was still in his room.

The doors opened and he trudged down the hallway to his room, ready to try out his new twin bed. Then he remembered how he hadn’t unpacked anything and pondered if he’d rather just sleep in the carpeted hallway.

At his door, he opened it and peered in before stepping inside. His new roommate still wasn’t around. If he were like this the entire semester, John wouldn’t have to switch. He moved his boxes from the bed in search of his phone and sat down to call his mom.

“I made it here,” he said when she answered in a sleepy tone.

“That’s great, honey. You getting settled in?” Bessie shifted on the other end of the line, probably sitting up from the couch.

“Yeah. I’m gonna make my bed and worry about the rest later.” John stared across the room at his mystery roommate’s sketch art, smiling at a blob in the corner of one of the pages.

“Oh okay. Have you met your roommate yet?”

John shook his head, standing up to examine the roommate’s art further. “No, and you remember when I requested an alpha roommate? They didn’t show up so now I’m stuck with an omega.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, John.” His mother’s tone mellowed to neutral, shifting again. “Are they gonna fix it?”

John squinted, leaning over his roommate’s bed to examine the blob in the corner better. It was a cat, curled up in the shape of a loaf. He hummed in amusement.

He pulled back and diverted his attention back to his mom. John didn’t even think about how he’d said it with his mother being an omega.

“I mean, if he’s never gonna show up I should be fine.” John joked, returning to his side of the room.

He opened the top box of his things and pulled out a fresh package of sheets. Unzipping it, he heard his mother titter at his observation.

“So you haven’t met him yet.” His mother was in the kitchen now, her voice echoing as she opened the fridge.

“No, but all his stuff is here,” John said, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he fluffed out his sheets.

He wrestled with his fitted sheet, getting it on the two far corners then tugging it tight to the opposite side.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, honey. Did you eat something?”

John cleared his throat. “Yeah, at the dorm canteen. I might try and find something else later, I could barely enjoy my food.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

John opened his mouth to explain the situation, but shook his head. “Nothing, it was just bland. They didn’t have a lot of options. I saw a diner outside of campus, I might walk there.”

“You need to be safe, John.” On the other end of the phone, the fridge shut and the light tink of a glass bottle was set. “Did you sign up for your rut schedule?”

John grimaced, his eyes squeezing closed. He stopped in his task, straightened up and held his phone to his ear. “Yes mom. Had to do it when I came in.”

“Good. Alright honey, well I’m off to bed. Was just waiting for your call.”

John smiled softly, kicking at his box before sitting down on his bed. “Sorry to make you wait.”

“It’s okay. Just glad you made it safely. I love you.”

“Love you too,” John repeated, already unfolding his flat sheet. “I’ll call you later this week.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Night, mom.”

Bessie hung up before John did; he pocketed his phone then reached for the garbage bag carrying his pillows. He managed to finish up his bed in minutes, then unpacked his clothes to his dresser.

Finally, he unpacked his backpack and set his laptop at his desk. He waited for a moment, hoping to actually meet his roommate before his stomach growled.

With the thought of leaving again in mind, John retrieved his welcome packet and filled out his rut room request. In the direction section it stated that if two or more alphas ruts aligned at one time, an omega would be left in one of their rooms.

John shook his head in disbelief, reading over it again. ‘In the chance that three or more alphas ruts align as omegas do, the omegas will be subject to relocating to the empty alphas’ rooms.’

There were four rooms to each floor, each floor of the dorm alternating between alphas and omegas except when there weren’t enough omega roommates. Or in John’s case, alpha roommates.

He wrote down his name, his room number, date of birth and Epsilon type. This was just the added option, he knew. Of course, the university had the added precaution so alphas and omegas had no reason to miss classwork.

When his time came, John would make the trek into New Haven itself and book a hotel for a week. Just to put as much distance between him and omega heat. He finished the paperwork and stood up, kicking the rest of his belongings under his bed.

John stopped at Charles’s desk again, holding the paper out. Charles closed his book again and took the paper from him then turned to input it into his computer.

“Did you get a room key earlier?” Charles asked, not looking up from the monitor. John leaned against the high counter, his arms folding on the top.

“No.”

Charles motioned for John to walk around the desk, step up to the plain blue background before a camera. “We’ll get that next, okay? Sit down and we’ll take your ID photo.”

John did as he was told, sitting down and not smiling for Charles’ to take his photo. The rest of their interaction was just updating John’s information, printing his ID and giving him two keys for his room.

“That diner in town, how long are they open?” John thumbed over his shoulder. “The one with the big neon sign.”

“Oh, The Horseshoe? I think they’re open until eleven.” Charles looked at his computer monitor and back at John. “You’ve got time. But for future reference, on-campus curfew is eleven. If you try to get into the dorm, you’ll have to call the desk.”

John gave the resident advisor a thumbs up, his casual demeanor unreadable. “I guess I’ll make it quick then.”

John wasted no time walking off of campus, the rain thankfully taking a break. He made it to the diner, the Horseshoe, a restaurant on planks with a neon sign in the window. The double glass doors were decorated in campus activity flyers, a few from the previous fall semester.

Plastered on top was the announcement for ALA meetings, precariously placed next to an OLO flyer with the same fonts. John shook his head, throwing the door open and walking up to the counter.

He stood next to the register, threw his foot on the foot bar and reached for a nearby menu. He flipped through the thick pages, eyed names of burgers as his stomach grumbled.

“Hey there, sweetie. You know what you want?” A waitress walked up, dressed in a gaudy yellow diner uniform. Her bright blond curls were pulled back and her top button was undone.

“I, uh,” John stammered, looking up from the menu to the young lady and back down. His eyes caught onto her nametag before getting stuck in the crevice of her breasts. “What’s good here?”

The waitress, Karen, smiled, putting her notepad into her skirt pocket. She leaned forward on the counter and rested her chin in her hand. “You new here?”

“Just moved on campus.” John scanned blindly at the menu to not look at Karen’s abrasive chest again. A nervous sweat broke across the back of his neck, knowing that if he sniffed in her direction he wouldn’t be surprised at an omega.

“Well, most college students like our cheese fry platter with the Valentine BBQ burger. I gotta say, Pearson makes a damn good patty melt and house fries. Oh, and his cola cake is better than anything you’ve ever tried before.”

John’s mouth twitched in amusement, bringing his head up and bypassing Karen’s cleavage. “A patty melt, huh? I’m not in a rush. I’ll take that and, since you convinced me, I’ll have some of that cola cake too.”

“Hungry boy, makin’ the right choice,” Karen said, retrieving her notepad and clicking her pen. “You want anything to drink?”

“Water,” John said, side stepping to sit at the counter. “And I’ll take it to-go if you don’t mind.”

“You got it,” Karen said again, clicking her pen again after writing out her notepad.

After paying, John took his dinner and desert back to the dorms. He dug his free hand into his to-go bag, grabbing and unwrapping his patty melt. With fresh air again, he could enjoy his food along with the fresh foliage scent after the rain.

He bit into it, reveled in the buttery toast and salty onions in cheese. John got back to the dorms with his patty melt gone, greasy hand grabbing handfuls of his house fries around the saran-wrapped piece of cake.

John nodded at Charles at the front desk, made his way to the elevator and elbowed the button. He ate the potato chunks one at a time, savoring them on his way back to his room. Now he was hoping his roommate was back so he wouldn’t have to break from his extra dinner.

Wiping his hand on his pants, John dug into his pocket for his key and managed to put it in the lock. The door opened though, a heavy steam evaporating from the room as a large build took up most of the door space.

John stopped chewing, coming face to face with a young man, about his age, his jaw chiseled and his skin damp, steaming. A towel was draped over his head, down to his broad shoulders.

“Oh, you’re my roommate, right? Hi, I’m Arthur,” the boy said, his hand on the doorknob holding out to shake John’s.

John glanced to Arthur’s hand then his hand holding his greasy bag. He switched it over to his free hand, swiped the grease from his palm more than necessary, still staring at the boy’s blue-green eyes.

“John,” he said, his hand colliding with Arthur’s.

He couldn’t get the grease taste from his mouth and it was now turning sour. John gulped, giving Arthur’s hand a squeeze before dropping his hand and eyes from the boy’s.

“Can I come in?” John asked, nodding over Arthur’s broad shoulder.

“Oh yeah, course.” Arthur sidestepped, letting John pass by him.

John did that, walking through the steamy aura from the male omega. He cleared his throat, struggling to breathe it in. It was light and fresh compared to the oily tang on his tongue.

He managed to sit down on his bed, stared into his almost empty brown paper bag and tried to focus on the remaining food in it. Arthur closed the door, rubbing the towel in his hair until he decided it was dry enough.

John glanced up as Arthur draped his damp towel over the back of his desk chair. The omega was only wearing sleep pants, barefooted. He sat down heavily on his bed and pressed his back to the cool wall.

“Sorry I didn’t get to meet you earlier, I was busy mapping out my classes for next week.”

John nodded, stealing minimal glances at Arthur to keep from staring. “I understand. It’s nice to meet you. I don’t wanna get your hopes up, but we might not be bunking for long.”

“Oh, oh yeah. I heard. Sorry I’m not what you were expecting, I ain’t one to make life hard on people.” Arthur’s drawl seeped through with his grin broadening.

John’s eyes grew wide, turning his face back down at the last thing in his brown paper bag. “No, it ain’t you. If anything, I’m mad at the dumbass that dropped out at the last minute.”

Arthur nodded along, his smile never falling. John took the silence to bring out the cola cake and unwrap it with minimal crumbling.

“You wanna bite?” John offered, holding the hefty slice of cake in his palm and leaning forward.

“Sure,” Arthur drawled again, standing up to pinch off a half of the chocolate cake.

John maintained his eyes on the cake itself, not the moving omega before him. His throat was sealed over, he wasn’t sure if he was breathing. John didn’t even know if it reached his face, if his discomfort around Arthur was noted.

Arthur tilted his head back and crumbled the cake into his mouth, his adam’s apple protruding and bobbing as he easily swallowed.

“Thanks, I’ll let you finish that up. I’m gonna head to bed.” Arthur licked at his fingers, returning to his bed.

He threw back his duvet, climbed into bed and reached over his headboard to his phone. “Hopefully we don’t bother each other, right?”

John attempted a huff of laughter, though it lodged in his throat. He unarmed his water cup, popped off the lid and took a large gulp after Arthur turned his back to him.


	3. The Once and Future Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John receives a phone call. He also meets a new omega.

John kept his movement to a minimum, to not interrupt his sleeping roommate. Even though Arthur's earbuds were in and he was soundly sleeping, John didn't want to make any jarring noises to wake him. It was the least he could do. After all of the omegas he met today, John wasn't sure if he made a good impression with any of them. 

He watched a movie on his laptop, the brightness turned down as he waited for Abigail's phone call. John's attention was pulled away, however, to his roommate every time the guy rolled over or sighed deeply. John snapped away, trying to get back into the movie, but too concerned with Arthur. 

He was an omega? Built like that? John looked down at his own chest; he wasn't stalky or thin like his brothers but Arthur's chest was thick. How any alpha could date that without feeling belittled was a mystery. Not to mention he was taller than him. 

That was even worse. John shook his head, blinking at his laptop screen though the movie meant nothing anymore. He sat through it, taking his mind off of his snoozing roommate. 

He leaned his head out from behind his laptop balanced on his knees; and he was a recessive? He didn't seem any different other than his body type. Were all recessives like that? As rare as they were, did they pass more for betas, or even alphas? 

Did it make Arthur feel conscious? Was he worried about his image in the Epsilon or was he like John, dating in his own identity? He'd like to meet who he was dating, _if_ he was dating. Not that it mattered either way, they wouldn't be around each other for long. 

But at the exact moment, John couldn't see a single problem with an omega as a roommate. John feared the smell the most and, sure meeting Arthur for the first time was jarring but, he got over it quickly. Now he felt nose blind, Arthur's fresh scent held a warm, smoky undertone. It felt like nothing to worry about. 

And if it was a requirement for him, John assumed that Arthur had to sign up for his heat schedule. And if rooms weren't available, he would still be out of John's way. He'd hold out on the thought, it was already starting to grow on him though he preferred that his roommate remained a mystery for the rest of the semester. 

That would've left him from examining the omega like a cougar hiding in tall grass. John would never pounce, but the intrigue was definitely there. His eyes flicked up to the sketch art hung over Arthur's bed. Did he draw them? John would've never pinned that type of guy as an artist. 

He should've asked Arthur about his major, John chastised himself, remembering the dead silence from earlier. His phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to jolt. John paused his movie, unplugged his earphones and shut his laptop. 

Then he plugged the buds into his phone and fished it free. "You were speeding, weren't you?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, Marston," Abigail said, her smile seeping through her voice. She yawned, her car door slamming in the background.

John scoffed, bending forward in his bed to search for his toothbrush. He grabbed it and his toothpaste then quietly shuffled off of his bed. 

"Glad you made it home okay." 

Abigail hummed. "Me too. I'm ready for bed."

She retrieved her house key from her jacket and shoved her front door open. John tiptoed to the bathroom, shut the door behind him. He set his phone on the counter and spared a glance at himself in the mirror before turning on the sink. 

"Guess who I finally met," John said after a long minute of Abigail shifting through her home and to her room. 

"Your roommate? What's he like?" Abi asked, flopping onto her bed. 

"He's fine. His name is Arthur." John decorated his toothbrush bristles with a line of toothpaste; he jammed it into his mouth and started making circles. "I'm gonna give it the week, but I don't think it'll be that bad." 

Abigail rolled onto her back and John listened to her breathe into the receiver. "Babe."

John stopped in his task, knowing that Abi only used pet names in times of her stern nature. "Yeah?"

"I trust that you're strong, but if you have the out, it might be better to consider that."

John shrugged to himself. "Abi, I'm telling you, he's practically a beta. There's no concern. But I'm holding out judgement. Maybe he's just a shitty roommate in general." 

Abigail laughed at that; she exhaled deeply into the receiver and John smiled in return. 

"You call your mom?" 

John nodded then responded with a quick 'yeah'; he bent forward and scrubbed at his tongue before spitting the building foam in his mouth. 

"Keep in touch, okay?" 

John brought his head back up, looking back at his own dark eyes. "I'd never forget about you. You'd never let me."

"That's not funny, John," Abigail raised her voice though it was partially muffled into her pillow now. She shifted the rest of her body onto her side, her phone placed before her face. 

"I'm just messin' with you. I miss you already."

"You sap." Abigail went silent for a moment. "I miss you too."

"Well," John began, his hands resting on the lip of the counter. "I should let you get to bed."

"Thanks for that. Night John."

John hummed. "Good night." 

He waited for Abigail to hang up, but it went silent on the other end except for her soft breathing. John stood by, listening to her soft hums and steady breaths for a couple minutes before his finger hovered over the 'end call' button. He couldn't do it, his breathing hitching to match hers, imagining her arms tucked under her head while she slept on top of her comforter. 

John hit the button, tugged his earbuds from his ears and resumed brushing his teeth then left. He pulled open one of his dresser drawers for his pajamas, setting his toothbrush and paste on the top of the dresser. With a glance over his shoulder, John quickly peeled off his double-layered shirt and replaced it with his muscle tee. He did the same for his pants, kicking off his tennis shoes in the same motion then pulled on a pair of fleece pants. 

John grabbed at his clothes, looked for a place to put them but ultimately decided to fold them on his dresser top. He'd have to invest in a laundry basket. He shuffled back to bed, moving his laptop back to his desk and throwing back his duvet. 

Climbing into bed, he glanced over at Arthur again then shifted to get comfortable. John rolled onto his side, facing the wall and began to trace nonsensical shapes on the plain wall. He listened in on Arthur's breathing, a steady rumbling breath followed by a purring inhale of a snore. 

If John dissociated the sound from the boy, he could almost imagine the beach. His eyes fluttered heavily, thinking of the endless horizon and the warmth of sand under his feet. John tried to fight it twice but ultimately lost to sleep. 

John woke up the next morning to the heavy pounding on the dorm door. He squinted an eye open, glanced over his shoulder to the front door itself then Arthur eagerly climbing out of bed.

He shook his head, ducked his face back down to the pillow as Arthur opened the door.

“Honey, you can’t be knockin’ like that. My roommate’s still sleeping,” Arthur said lowly.

A sharp tsk escaped the other person, the force of the door wafting their scent into the room. John raised his head again and groaned lowly.

“He’s fine, see? You left in a rush last night, I was worried ‘bout you,” a sweet lilt of a voice spoke.

John glanced over his shoulder quickly as he sat up, catching onto tightly wound blondish-brown curls peeking just past Arthur’s broad shoulders. He turned back to the wall before him, stretched his arms above his head while he willfully ignored the stranger lover’s spat.

Arthur groaned, his hand fumbling with the doorknob. His eyes cut to the ceiling while he chewed at his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be hanging out with your girls, gabbing about nothing all night. I told you that I was done after dinner.”

“It was still rude of you to leave,” his girlfriend said, her lilt revealing itself to be that of shrill banjo twang.

“I know,” Arthur said, folding at the sudden pout of his girlfriend.

John stretched his arms back then managed to climb off of his bed with minimal noise. He walked to his dresser, stealing another glance at the girl in his doorway just as her scent hit him.

Another omega. John turned away to hide the furrow of his brows; he rummaged through his top drawer, then the second, piecing together his outfit for the day while he listened in.

Arthur’s girlfriend outwardly scoffed after seeing John move; her nose turned up in disgust and she crossed her arms. “I can’t believe they bunked you with an alpha.”

“Stop it,” Arthur said, his tired voice striking firm. “Couldn’t this have been a phone call?”

She scoffed again, almost sounding like she was hacking up phlegm; John grimaced, slamming the last drawer shut and straightening up. He slinked to the bathroom, stopped in the doorway and pointed over his shoulder.

“Hey, did you need to take a shower?”

Arthur broke eye contact with the girl and waved a hand at John. “Go on, I’ll be after you.”

John nodded, offered a quick grin at Arthur then stepped into the bathroom. He shut the door with Arthur’s girlfriend speaking up at the last moment.

“You signed up for a heat room, right? If you got stuck here with _that_ —”

“Stop. It. Mary,” Arthur said, moving away from the door, leaving it open for his girlfriend to follow.

John groaned, hid a roll of his eyes. An alpha-hating omega, not uncommon but not often so outward with it. He let it slide, went to the shower and started the tepid water.

With a strip, John stepped into the shower stall and immediately wet his hair. He hadn’t even thought about any of his other things, looking around the stall at Arthur’s soap and shampoo.

“Dammit,” he grumbled, reaching for the water faucet.

John opened the stall door and looked around for a towel then remembered that all of his things were under his bed. He swore under his breath, grabbed his dirty clothes from the bathroom floor then went to the door.

He gently opened the door to Mary sitting on Arthur’s bed and Arthur rummaging through his dresser for his own clothes. John hissed in Arthur’s direction, inadvertently catching Mary’s attention.

She grimaced at John, how he held his dirty clothes in a bunch over his crotch. Arthur perked up and looked over his shoulder to John.

“Hey, sorry, can you grab me a towel from my box under the bed?” John asked meekly, pointing to the outmost jutting box. “And maybe my shampoo? I really didn’t think this through.”

Arthur grinned dumbly and nodded. “Sure.”

John watched Arthur do just that, bend down to grab a towel from his box then grab the bag of hygiene on the top of the dresser. Mary glared warily at John, gave him another once over before turning away.

“Here you go,” Arthur said, holding the things out for John to take.

With his free hand, John scooped the items from Arthur. “Thanks.”

He shut the door closed again, returned to the shower with dropping his dirty clothes to the floor. John rummaged through his bag, grabbed his soap and shampoo then turned the faucet back on.

He scrubbed eagerly at his body, freeing the musk of his natural alpha from seeping into the air. John then scratched at his scalp, swiping the shampoo down the length of his hair before leaning his head back.

John wrung his dark hair free of water then pulled on his briefs. He dressed quickly, grabbing his toothbrush and wetting it, donning it with toothpaste before rushing out of the bathroom.

He probably spent way too long in there for Arthur’s liking and that would only bring up more excuse for Mary to complain about the situation.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sidestepping out of the warm bathroom and into the temperate room. John dropped his dirty clothes at the foot of his bed, remembering once again the hamper he had to invest in.

He raked a hand through his damp hair, bending down to retrieve a pair of socks from the bottom drawer. Arthur waved at him casually.

“Ain’t no rush. Right Mary?” he asked, turning to his girlfriend sitting tightly on the edge of his bed.

John looked over, saw the omega girl with her arms crossed, legs crossed, pouting extremely. An overall off-putting demeanor.

“Right,” she quickly responded.

John looked to Arthur, who was still smiling the same kindness, his clothes held in his lap. He pushed to his feet and went to the bathroom after assuring Mary he’d be quick.

Grabbing a pair of socks, John kicked the drawer closed and sat down on his bed to pull them on. Toothbrush still jutting from his mouth, the minty taste dripping in with his saliva, he grabbed his shoes and laced them on.

Mary sat across from him, still tightly wound though she had no reason to be. John wasn’t concerned with her. He caught onto her scent and was over it just as a quick. He knew that it was probably due to her own masking perfume or some sort of alpha-warding product, but John didn’t care she was there.

She let out another sound of disgust, one that made John stop and grimace in his own right. He finished with his shoes, grabbed his phone from its charger and started going through it as the shower started.

Abi sent him a ‘good morning’ text and he received an email from the school’s app about the newest meeting for ALA/OLO. John texted back to Abi, then sent a text to his group chat with his brothers.

“What’re you waiting on?” Mary finally asked, her arms uncrossing and slamming onto the bed.

“I’m sorry?” John retorted, looking up from his phone to see the omega’s face scrunched.

“Why’re you still here? Don’t you have your own things to worry about?” She flitted her hand over her shoulder in the direction of the door and John’s eyes followed it.

His mouth turned up in a slight sneer. “I was actually gonna ask Arthur if he wanted to go over our schedules together. He told me he mapped out his classes yesterday.”

“Don’t you have alpha advisors to show you around?”

John perked up then, set his phone down and turned fully to Mary. He started into her hazel eyes, the venom behind them making them revolting.

He turned his own nose up at her attire in a once over, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly at her. John noted the slight shift in her seat, how she huffed again and how the air was filling with the scent of her sweat.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking I’m gonna do, whether to you or your little boyfriend, but I’d like you to stop. I don’t want you, I don’t want him. The fact that that ever crossed your mind means that you haven’t learned much in high school.”

John stood up, saw Mary outwardly flinch and shook his head. “You reek to me. There’s nothing appetizing about you. I’d rather attack a oil dumpster.” He grabbed at his phone then his wallet from the top of the dresser along with his room key.

“I’ll just see Arthur later. It was _so_ nice to meet you, Mary.” John bit out, going to the room door and throwing it open just enough to not break the knob.

He stormed out of the room and to the elevator, looking up the school map on his phone.


	4. I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries to make up for his girlfriend's rude behavior. John and Arthur get to know one another better. The first week of classes start. The boys are invited to a campus bonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really holding out on putting notes on this, but I'm in love with this story already and I don't want to get anyone's hopes up, but you won't be sorry for reading this. And yes, unlike my other untraditional A/B/O fic with John and Arthur, Arthur is an omega with a peen. 
> 
> But obviously, we know that it doesn't matter because people are not attracted to genitals, but people themselves.

John pushed the button for the elevator, his agitation channeling into his crazed search for his school map. The app's formatting was off and he couldn't see the whole layout of the campus without zooming out, making the map too small to look at properly. 

It was a menial frustration he was channeling into, his thumbs taking turns wildly scrolling down the image search page for the best large resolution map of the school. 

Of course he could always go back to his dorm, where he was an enemy to his stranger roommate's omega girlfriend. But he didn't want to do that because that would mean he'd have to stand in her stench again, see her downright gnarly face with all of its judgy scrunching. 

"God, stupid fuckin' image search," John muttered to himself, the elevator sounding as it went up to the second floor. 

He could always wait until the elevator came, then he'd just ask Charles at the front desk for another copy of the map. That was the logical solution, but no. John wanted to stew in the moment, his alpha musk seeping through the dampening soap and deodorant he used. 

His armpits started to sweat, the agitation seeping up through his shoulders. Where was the elevator? John finally snapped his attention away from his phone to see Arthur and Mary leaving his dorm room; Arthur was dressed up in a striped button down and dark blue jeans. 

Mary was staring daggers from the end of the hallway all the way up to their meet. John stared back at her, unamused, his jaw visibly clenching. 

"You alright?" Arthur asked, not acknowledging the alpha cloud that he and Mary were standing in. 

"Fine," John said, his teeth slightly grit as he practically spat in Mary's direction.

Arthur furrowed his brows, following John's hard-to-miss glare to Mary. "What'd you do?"

"I haven't done nothing. He's the one acting weird. I told you its a bad idea to bunk with --"

"Mary, shut your mouth." Arthur was stern yet again. It jolted John to stop in is own agitation and watch how he spoke. 

This was an omega, gaining attention, leading a conversation like anyone would assume an alpha. John rolled his shoulders back like he was being reminded by his mother not to slouch. 

"You can't be acting like this. Especially with my roommate. You're making him, and myself, uncomfortable." 

John found himself staring at Arthur, his steady voice drawling while he spoke. Mary gulped visibly, her hands wringing before her as she dipped her chin. 

"But Arthur, --"

"But nothing. He's a person, just like you and me. Imagine if he treated us like you're treatin' him. You'd hate it, I know." 

Where was this life advice coming from? John wondered. Even in high school, most omegas would casually ignore alphas unless they were mated. There was no looking from each other's point of view. 

Mary was silent, her face going soft for the first time since John met her. He stared at her, her bottom lip beginning to jut in embarrassment. 

"Now," Arthur turned to John, his hand going for his shoulder. "I'm sorry for whatever she said or how she made you feel. I'm sure she'll want to say sorry too."

John's eyes were focused on Arthur's hand, heavy and steady on his shoulder. His eyes followed the length of Arthur's arm, back to the omega's thick shoulder. 

Mary cleared her throat, looking down at her shoes now. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." 

John nodded in general, casually shrugging Arthur's hand from his arm. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry too." 

"Look at that. And you didn't even deserve it, Mary." 

"Oh shut up, Arthur." Mary bit with the elevator finally arriving. 

The three stepped inside, with Arthur pressing the button for the first floor. 

John cleared his throat, staring forward at the steel walls. "What are you two up to today?"

"We were actually on our way to the Horseshoe for breakfast. Would you like to come?” Arthur asked, nudging John in the side with his shoulder.

John glanced behind Arthur, saw Mary roll her eyes and look away. He was going to try again at the canteen, hoping that the omega wasn’t forced to work through her heat. His mouth watered at the thought of the house fries again, and maybe another slice of cola cake.

“Sure, why not?” John shrugged.

The three walked in mostly silence all the way to the Horseshoe, with Mary scrolling through her phone and showing whatever she found to Arthur while she held his hand. John was more discreet with his phone scrolling, keeping the entire Orientation Week schedule to himself though he did want at least Arthur’s input on things.

Arthur reached for the right door as John reached for the left, both of them opening with a suction-like flourish. Arthur let Mary through under his arm and John just stepped inside, scanning the diner for an empty booth.

He walked over to it, with Mary and Arthur following, and sat on the side facing the doors; John scooted all the way to the window though he knew he’d be alone on his side.

Mary sat down, scooted in and Arthur did the same, sitting closer to the edge of the booth. The three sat in more awkward silence after John handed them each a flat menu from the condiment caddy.

He once again stared at the menu, just as lost as the night before but now more so. They had a full spread of a breakfast menu. Still had house fries as a side though.

“Hey y’all, what can I get you to drink?” Karen walked up to the table, pen and pad at the ready while she chewed at a piece of blue bubblegum.

John looked up and offered her a grin; the waitress dropped her arms from their stiffened position, her hands balling to rest on her hips.

“How’d you like your dinner last night?” She asked, reciprocating John’s smile.

“It was good,” John said with an assuring nod.

“I thought so. I’d never steer you wrong, sugar.” Karen looked from John to his company, at the uptight girl near the window and the just as chipper boy sat next to her. “Now, what can I get you today?”

“What’s your favorite breakfast?” John asked, pulling up the flat menu to glance over it again.

“I love the Cattleman’s Breakfast Spread. It’s got your sausage, eggs sunny side up, toast, house fry hash, two slices of bacon and, if you’re really hungry, a breakfast patty melt.”

John’s smile grew seeing Karen so jovial about telling specials on a menu. Mary, however, released her signature scoff of disgust and Karen took notice.

Her pinched red cheeks turned down from a smile, her eyes flashing over to the omega girl holding her menu up and scrutinizing each item. John shook his head.

Arthur waved a hand in his girlfriend’s direction in dismissal. “Don’t mind her. I would love a Cattleman’s Breakfast.” He glanced over to John, “What about you?”

John nodded, to hid his stammer. “I’ll do the same. And a cola cake.”

Karen’s smile returned ten-fold, looking between the two boys but stopping at John. “Hungry boy’s back.”

John chuckled at her and asked for a water and orange juice to wash it all down; Arthur seconded the orange juice and Mary only asked for toast and a bowl of fruit. Karen wrote it all down, gave John and Arthur a nod then left to put their order in.

John set his phone on the table, texted Abi back quicker than she did. He went back to the school’s app, scrolling through the Orientation Week’s schedule again.

“What is ALA/OLO?” John asked finally, the answer never coming to him in the three times he’d seen it.

“Oh, uh,” Arthur said, sitting back and looking over to Mary and back. “Alpha loving Alpha or Omega loving Omega.”

John tried to not let the answer react on his face. He should’ve figured. When he was in high school, they never talked about it because most of his friends were in mated relationships. His parents never said anything about him dating Abigail, but what were they going to say?

“They meet every Tuesday and Thursday. Tonight’s meant to be their orientation for freshmen,” Mary said passively, not pulling her attention from her phone.

“Oh,” John finally said, looking back down to his phone.

“You’re welcome to join us. They accept allies, it’s not just alphas and omegas.” Arthur added.

John wanted to mention Abigail, but chose not to. Not in front of Mary at least. He sat back from his phone and looked at Arthur. “I’m good. Thanks though. But…can you help me map out my classes? I think it’d really help me out.”

“Sure,” Arthur said, perking up. “Practically know the campus like the back of my hand by now. What do you got?”

Mary slouched further over her phone, hiding her disgust by scrolling through her social media. John grabbed his phone and went to his schedule, then turned it to Arthur.

The boy sat forward, taking the phone from John’s hand; his fingers barely wisping over John’s palm. John waited while Arthur scrolled through the schedule, his eyes darting through the description of each.

John supposed he was silently mapping out the campus for each building on the schedule. He tried his best to keep his classes bunched together in the same area for Mondays and Wednesdays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.

But he wasn’t focusing on that, his thumb folding over his palm where Arthur just touched his hand. The boy’s hair dangled along his forehead, most of the milk chocolate locks swiped back with hair gel possibly.

He could see why Mary was protective of him, but John wasn’t a threat. Just like Abigail was probably protective of him too. Arthur’s eyes flicked up from the phone and John froze in place, seeing into the depth of his lake blue irises. There was a yellow-green ring around his pupil, barely noticeable but with enough staring, it magically appeared.

“We have two classes together,” Arthur said, pulling John from staring anymore in the boy’s face.

“What? We do?” John asked, looking down at his phone as Arthur tilted it back to him.

“Yeah. Epsilon Studies and Introduction to Agriculture Economics.”

John took his phone back when Arthur offered it. He furrowed his brows and looked at him again. “Wait, what’s your major?”

“Oh, History. They had to make me choose something and that’s what I went with.”

“Your father’s a history professor too.” Mary added.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed, physically deflating at the acknowledgement. “What’s your major?”

“Agricultural Science.” John said.

“Why?” Mary asked, setting her phone screen down and jutting into their conversation.

“Just…my dad used to work on a farm and I’ve always wanted to work on a farm too. Who knows, I might change it before the semester is over.”

Mary hummed in response, no longer interested in the conversation. She turned to Arthur and asked him to let her out. He scooted out of the booth and let her go then returned to his exact spot.

“I think that’s cool. Agricultural Science. Honestly, if I could, I’d choose anything other than History.”

John folded his arms on the table with a nod. “Hey, did you make those sketches over your bed?”

Arthur was taken aback, sitting away from John with a blink of confusion. John didn’t know where the question came from but it was such an incessant undermining need to know.

“Yeah, yeah I did. It was from an old sketchbook my mom found cleaning the attic one day. Those,” Arthur led with a quick sigh to follow. “Were my graduation present.”

John smiled softly. “They’re pretty cool. Plus, I’m sure if my mom could find all the birthday cards I ever received, she’d have them framed.”

Arthur chuckled, his arms folding on top of the table as well. John swallowed hard, thought about what else to say while he was in front of Arthur but was drawing a blank.

“Oh, maybe while we’re mapping out classes, we can swing by the Orientation Booths set up? They might be handing out free stuff.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, sure. They’ve been set up all week and I walked through them yesterday. My brother was telling me there’s a booth for heat cycles, said they’re giving away free condoms and whatever.”

John didn’t know what his face was doing but he felt the heat rising to his cheeks. He nodded.

“Sounds like a good deal,” he tried coolly though his stomach was flipping.

Not that he’d be using any of it while he was here, but free stuff never hurt. “So, what’s the real deal with the ALA/OLO group? Are they cool?”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the restrooms then scoffed when he turned back. “Hell no. Well, I mean some of them are okay, my brothers included. But most of them treat it like some holier-than-thou type thing. That since they can cheat biology, they deserve a prize.”

John tucked his lips together to not smile at Arthur. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You know you’re in that group, too, right?”

Arthur shook his head, sat back. “I’m painfully aware. Only in it ‘cause of Mary. We don’t need a support group to just be ourselves. But the things I do for love.”

John scoffed at that, opening his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Karen returning with their full meals. He sat back in the booth, let her set down their drinks before setting a heavy plate of breakfast before each of them.

“Chow down, boys. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, finally setting Mary’s peckish breakfast at the head of the table.

“Thanks,” both boys offered to Karen as she folded the tray to her side and walked off.

Mary excused herself after breakfast to go into town; her friends were already shopping and she wanted to tag along.

“Guess it’s you and me, bud,” Arthur said, throwing his heavy arm over John’s shoulders.

John couldn’t smell anything off him, not a hint of sweat or deodorant. Whatever he used to mask himself was probably industrial strength.

His hand jammed between them, playfully shoving Arthur in the side. The boy was lean, firm. Definitely saw why Mary would be protective of him, whether or not it was John or anyone else prowling.

Not that John was prowling. He finally pushed himself free, with Arthur shrugging his arm away as he chuckled.

“Let’s get going,” John said.

The pair made their way across campus, Arthur leading the way mostly. At their first stop, John’s Introduction to Public Speaking, Arthur stopped before the front door.

“This is the Colter building. It’s about a three-minute walk from our dorm and if you go through the canteen, you can grab a coffee on your way out,” he said.

John shook his head though the amusement on his face was growing.

“Alright, next stop.” Arthur started walking to the next stop, their first class together, Epsilon Studies.

“The Annesburg building. Our class is gonna be on the second floor. It’s pretty cool, it has theater seats.” Arthur tried to make it sound interesting but John wasn’t having it. He could see Arthur’s eyes dulling at the mention of theater seats.

“Let’s keep rolling,” John said, thumbing over his shoulder. “Maybe we can pass through the main lawn, see those booths.”

“Good idea. Walking wouldn’t hurt. That breakfast was a lot, huh?” Arthur doubled back with John, asking what the next class was for Monday and Wednesday.

“Probability and Functions. The Pronghorn Center?”

Arthur snapped his fingers. “That’s just on the other side of the lawn.”

“Cool,” John said.

They kept walking to the main lawn, John following in Arthur’s stride until they made it to the crowding freshmen. The booths lined down both sides of the sidewalk, each one with colorful and bright-eyed people handing out flyers for their events.

John tried to keep up with all of them and the moving crowd next to Arthur. “Hey, if we get split up, I’ll just meet you at the Pronghorn Center.” He spoke up to his friend.

“Alright then,” Arthur said, over the crowd moving in the opposite direction. He turned to look at the right row of booths on the sidewalk while John looked on the left.

The crowd was most dense at the ‘Knotty Body Committee’, the sex positive club that outwardly rivaled ALA/OLO. They displayed a sign that said so. John looked over his shoulder to Arthur, who was directly across from him. Another sign on the booth table itself said ‘free rut/heat items’, with an alpha girl standing on a stool, handing out boxed items.

“Everybody should be practicing safe sexual practices. Knotted dildos and Rut Squeezers available.”

The crowd roared in excitement mostly, hands going out for boxed items being placed in the alpha girl’s hands faster than she could give them away.

“Alpha, alpha! Omega, you!” She called out with each handing of a box, eventually tossing one out to John in the outskirts.

He froze, staring at the box in his hands, unmarked except for a large ‘A’ stamped at the top. John looked at the other people in the crowd, not even bothered by him having it.

His cheeks felt hot again, the thought of having it was causing him to sweat through his masker. John looked around at the rest of the crowd, slowly dispersing and regrouping with new people.

On the other side of the crowd, Arthur was now standing, holding a similar box in his hands except marked with an ‘O’. John felt his blood rush in general, watching his roommate open the box and pull free a dull grey dildo with a sufficient bulb at the base.

John stammered to himself, seeing Arthur’s face break into a nervous grin before chuckling outwardly at the thing in his hand. Did he…?

He couldn’t think about it. John didn’t need to. It wasn’t his business; they were just roommates. Or they would be, depending on how the rest of the would go.

“Welcome to Epsilon Studies, I will be your professor, Dr. Strauss.”

John followed Arthur inside and up to the second row of seating. He sat down next to him, put his backpack on the back of his chair and pulled free his laptop.

“You wanna get lunch at the Horseshoe?” Arthur asked, unzipping his backpack and grabbing his notebook and paper.

John swiveled his chair in Arthur’s direction with a smirk. “We’ve been eating there all week. You sure you’re not gonna lose your lean?”

“I think you’ve got me beat, dough boy. How’s those house fries been treating you?” Arthur smiled, turning in John’s direction.

Their knees clashed together but neither acknowledged it. It’d been that way for the week. John forgot his towel a second time on Friday morning, and Arthur came in at the moment he stepped out of the shower.

It wasn’t a long moment, just Arthur shielding his eyes with his hand while his other blindly patted at the counter.

On Saturday night, John found himself staring at Arthur’s chest while he slept. He’d kicked his duvet down his legs, folding it between them while he slept on his side.

John was trying to fall asleep after another movie, something with a vague plot involving two cowboys. While his eyelids grew heavy, his focus was just on the casual squeeze, rise and fall of Arthur’s lightly haired pecs until he fell asleep.

“Pretty well, bulking up for the winter.” John patted at his side, still flat. Though if he kept eating at the Horseshoe every day, he was sure he’d be chunky by October.

His mom wouldn’t mind but he knew his brothers would harsh on him for it.

“We can eat something at the canteen then,” Arthur said, sitting forward as a classmate handed back a stack of the syllabus.

“Good. Salad for lunch, Horseshoe for dinner,” John said lowly, making Arthur smile.

He took a packet of paper then handed another to John before holding the rest over his shoulder for the next row to take. Arthur turned his body in the direction of John, opened the syllabus and flipped through it with his knee bouncing.

John leaned an elbow on the table, casually thumbing through the syllabus without taking any of it in.

“We will have many discussions, because while this is a type of gender studies, there are a lot of ethical opinions to have.” Professor Strauss spoke up.

John glanced up from the paper to Arthur, who was already underlining parts of the syllabus as Strauss talked about them. He pulled his bottom lip in and chewed at peeling skin of it.

John leaned forward as he remembered what he wanted to ask Arthur. “There’s a bonfire this weekend, you wanna go?”

“Where?” Arthur whispered, not looking up from his paper.

“The Outfields, it starts at nine.”

Arthur hummed in thought, underlining another line before his hand went out to clutch John’s knee. John jolted in his seat, trying to not look down at Arthur’s heavy hand patting his leg now.

“Sounds good, roomie,” Arthur said, pulling his hand back.

“Then we can eat at the Horseshoe,” John joked, sitting forward in his chair.

“Right.” Arthur nodded with his own bout of laughter.

The silence between then was starting to mellow normal, becoming just as comfortable as their banter. John thought it’d only get worse over time, expecting Arthur’s true nature to reveal itself.

But no, he was a normal roommate. He was helpful, he also kept to himself and didn’t get upset by John’s lack of upkeep. Arthur offered to borrow his brother’s, Charles, car to drive John to the nearest home goods store for a laundry basket.

They spent Sunday doing so, with Arthur going inside with him and giving zero insight on what kind of basket John needed.

He hadn’t told Arthur about Abigail yet; John hadn’t told Abigail that he was planning on staying with Arthur. If he held out until Ranger Week, their homecoming week, John would introduce Abigail and show her there was nothing to worry about.


	5. To Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur continue to just work. They, along with Mary and Charles, go to the bonfire and meet some new people.

By the time Friday came around, John was more than ready for the bonfire. The steady ramping of the energy throughout the week was like no other and, every morning he woke up at the same time Arthur did, the two would get dressed and have breakfast together. The excitement was palpable, almost tangible between them while they thought about whether there would be any parties afterwards. 

"I think the OLO is having a get together afterwards. Dessert, punch, you know,” Arthur said, walking in stride with John out of the dorms and in the direction of the main lawn.

John smirked at his coffee lid. “That sounds, without a doubt, like the worst way to end my night. We might as well just order some pizza and watch a movie in the room.”

Arthur turned to John with an eager nod; John caught onto it from the corner of his eye then shook his head.

“You should hang out with your girlfriend,” John said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I guess you’re right, but maybe a regular date instead of that group.” Arthur straightened forward as John fished his phone from his pocket.

He texted Abigail that they could video chat later that night, if she was free. She didn’t respond and John assumed she was still asleep.

“If she bails on me, you’re still up for a movie, right?” Arthur asked, pocketing his phone as they stopped at the sidewalk divergence.

John did the same with a smile. “Yeah. But just mention my name and she’ll keep you from me.”

“That ain’t—” Arthur began though he stared at John’s placid face, his eyes dark and unamused. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” John grinned quickly, his hand patting at Arthur’s arm. “Alright, bud, I’ll see you later.”

“Right, see you later then,” Arthur said.

Both turned in opposite directions of each other and went to their first class of the day, but not before John gave Arthur’s bicep a friendly squeeze. He regretted it when he walked away, staring at his hand that cusped over his roommate’s thick arm, the warmth still reminiscent on his palm.

That afternoon, John caught up with Arthur and Charles in the front lobby of the dorm. He plopped down in one of the couch chairs, casually draped a leg over the arm as he pulled out his phone again.

Abigail hadn’t texted him back since the morning, and she was quick to get off the phone the night before. John tried to not think about it, folding his phone to his stomach as he looked over to Arthur, curled up on the floor, writing in his notebook.

John watched how Arthur’s hand moved along the paper and sat up; he wasn’t writing.

“What’re you sketching?” John asked casually, bringing his phone up again to scroll through the event lineup for the night.

Arthur hummed, barely pulling his eyes from the paper before glancing in John’s direction. He quickly flipped his pencil to behind his ear, reaching at his side for his eraser before fervently going over the lines he made before.

“Nothing. Saw a raccoon earlier, decided to sketch that,” Arthur said, pressing the eraser harder into the paper. “Not very good though.”

John saw Charles lean over his brother’s shoulder, his face contorting in an unreadable expression. His mouth curled awkwardly in the middle while his nose scrunched. Almost as if he’d smelt something confusingly bittersweet.

“I think it’s cool,” Charles said, lounging back on the couch and pulling his laptop back onto his lap. “Messed up the nose though.”

“You’re right,” Arthur muttered, redirecting his eraser to the middle of the page before swiping all of the rubber shavings away.

“D’you talk to Mary?” John asked, dropping his phone again and looking over at Arthur.

The boy huffed, blowing the stray strands of hair dangling in his face away. “Yeah. She said she really wants to go to the OLO mixer.”

“Really?” Charles added, his scrunched nose only tightening. “She has a whole semester to spend with that club.”

“I know, it’s not worth thinking about. She said she’ll meet us at the bonfire.” Arthur hunched closer to the paper, retrieving his pencil again and starting over.

“Have you heard of any parties, Charles? Fraternities or sororities?”

“I heard that Oscar Delph Lima is having a party but it’s ratioed two omegas to alpha,” he said, typing at his computer.

John looked between the two brothers, both occupied in their own task. He cleared his throat, gaining both boys attention.

“Guys, we should go.” John pulled his leg down from the couch arm and straightened up. “Just to say that we went, right? Charles, you have the night off. What could it hurt?”

“I thought we were gonna watch a movie,” Arthur said, returning to his sketch with disinterest.

“We can watch whatever you want later, Arthur. Come on, just for an hour, huh?” John slinked off of the couch and onto his knees, across the table from Arthur. “You got the alpha beggin’, come on. Not that you aren’t fun but we should socialize a bit more.”

Arthur looked up from his paper again, seeing John kneel his way across the floor to the other side of the table. John folded himself over it with a hefty pout, one that made Arthur hide a scoff and look to Charles.

John saw Charles shrug then tilted his head up to look at Arthur eagerly. He found himself wiggling his hips eagerly, making his nonexistent tail wag.

Arthur dropped his notebook and pencil to his lap with a tired exhale. His eyes cut to the ceiling while his mouth started to curl into a grin.

“Fine, you got me,” he said to John, who perked up.

“I knew I would.” John fixed at his shirt then flopped onto his butt from his knees. “So, it’s just gonna be an hour. If we don’t like it, we can dip.”

John looked from Arthur to Charles. They both nodded in agreement and John braced his hands to fists with his small victory.

The bonfire was nothing to wag a stick at. It was a low fire, fueled by month old newspapers and non-collectible brochures from the Theater department. John expected a roaring, towering source of heat and light but had to squint every time he looked for Arthur.

Not that Arthur was his priority, or in his same vicinity every time John turned for him. He was trying to measure his roommate’s interest before they moved to the ODL party; except John couldn’t do that because Mary was moving Arthur away at every free chance, just to huddle close to him and hold his hand in private.

John hadn’t planned for the lackluster fire and was still dressed in his day clothes, no jacket or hoodie in sight. He almost depended on Arthur’s bulk of a body to transmit some heat as Charles neglected him with a phone call.

John circled around the fire again to find Arthur, the spot he stopped in no longer heating his body the same. He kept to the outskirts, the strangers becoming silhouettes against the dying flames.

“Arthur,” he hissed lowly, keeping out of others’ conversations with his voice. “Arthur, are you ready to go?”

John stopped at the sight of two people, huddled close together, kissing in the darkness. He tentatively stepped in their direction, deciding to sniff only to straighten up awkwardly.

It was Arthur and Mary; his arms were holding her waist as she reached up on her tiptoes to meet his lips. John snapped his head away immediately, not wanting to gawk at their intimate affection. Some other alpha would continue gawking, collect the moment for their own sick fantasy later.

“Arthur,” John said lowly, casually over his shoulder as he stepped towards his friend. “You good, bud?”

Arthur hummed against Mary’s lips at the mention of his name, the sound was oddly distressing with the sudden thought of vibration through Mary’s thin lips.

“Okay, you’ll find me when you’re ready.” John waved a hand in his friend’s direction.

He began to walk back around to his original space, at least to catch up with Charles but bumped into a hefty stranger. John took a step back, flicked his eyes up to the person’s face and sidestepped.

“My bad,” John said as he did so, only for it to happen again.

John looked up at the second stranger, both of them not even paying attention to him. They were looking past John, gawking and sniffing at the two omegas by the fire.

He grimaced, mindlessly pushing between the two reeking alphas. “Get outta here, you creeps.”

“Aww, come on pup, look at the omegas. Kissing for attention,” one stranger said, grabbing onto John’s arm and yanking him back.

“Get offa me,” John said, jamming his elbow into the stranger’s ribs.

He took it in stride with a gross chuckle to follow; his friend grabbed at John’s shoulder and shove him back, onto his back in the wet grass. “What do you care, runt? There’s no harm in looking.”

John pushed himself to his feet, brushed himself off as the stranger was charged and taken to the grass. The other went after his friend, pulling the freakish blur off of the alpha.

The first alpha dragged Arthur off of the second, and John quickly scrambled to free his friend from their grip.

“Arthur!” Mary hissed from the front of the fire; the crowd around them was no longer distracted in their own conversations.

Instead they were turned at the three alphas and single omega scrapping by the bonfire. John pulled Arthur away, helping him stand upright. Arthur was quick to right his long-sleeve then grabbed at John’s neck, clasping gently with his thumb pressed against John’s ear, giving him a once over.

“You okay?” He asked, his breath visible with fog. The fire lit up the left side of Arthur’s face and John tried to not get distracted, but he caught onto the fiery sparks that reflected in his roommate’s eyes.

It was short-lived, though, with one of the alpha strangers shoving John in the shoulder. “Oh, so he’s your omega, huh? Get him to play your sick fantasies?”

“Are we sure he’s not the omega? Look at them together,” the second one said with a laugh.

John lunged at them, his teeth baring as his chest erupted with a growl. This was a first for him; even in high school, he never felt such a visceral agitation.

He was caught by Arthur’s arm at his waist, holding him back while he snapped in the strangers’ direction. Both alphas laughed at him, doubling over as they imitated John like he was an angry kitten.

“Rao, rao,” the first said, batting his hands before his face after John.

“Bye, puddy cat,” the second started hissing.

John was practically carried away by Arthur. His feet slicked against the grass while he snarled and barked in the alphas’s direction.

“Fuck you!”

The crowd around them split with Arthur and Mary carrying John away; most of the crowd returned to the conversation while everyone stepped away from the stranger alphas.

When they were far away, Arthur set John onto his feet. John was still fevered, snorting and barking at the agitation from the altercation. Mary raised her hands, not bothering to stay for the alpha’s calm down. She walked off, in the direction of the main campus, but Arthur didn’t go after her.

“Why’d you do that?” John asked, his hand jutting in the direction of the fight. “They were talkin’ ‘bout you!”

“I know, but they weren’t bothering us,” Arthur said, holding his hands out.

John pieced together Arthur’s demeanor while he started to pace, trying to wear out the bunching of his shoulders; the omega, though against his nature, was also trying to come down from something with heavy gulps of air.

Now John could smell Arthur, his natural omega scent unbridled. He now saw the appeal. It was fragrant and woodsy, sweet and earthy. He shook his head, blinked and continued pacing.

“They were about to.” John still used his hand to talk, eyes darting back in the direction of the dwindling bonfire. “They were gawking at you two.”

Arthur didn’t say anything, hands going to his hips. John took in the recognition of Arthur’s waist then, his hips and shook his head again.

“John, take a deep breath. It’s over now,” Arthur tried, holding his hands out to stop his roommate.

“They were fucking disgusting, and now they’re all over me.” John stopped to pick at his shirt and sniff; his face pinched sourly, letting his shirt go.

He groaned, letting Arthur rest his hands on his shoulders. “Fun bonfire, huh?”


	6. You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries to calm the situation and still decides to attend the party. Arthur is reluctant but goes. John gets into more trouble and even more still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a whirlwind. I'm sorry, but I'm v proud of this chapter. 
> 
> I thought I was gonna give you a break, but then I remembered I hate myself so I wrote an extra eight pages just for you to suffer with me. :)

Arthur huffed mirthlessly, shaking his head at his roommate. "Yeah, it was definitely something. Come on, let's get back to the dorms." 

John shrugged away from Arthur's hold with a deep exhale. "No, let's head on over to the party."

"You serious?" Arthur tilted his head in slight confusion. "Even after that?"

"It was nothing, alright? I won't let our fun be ruined by some stupid alphas." 

Arthur folded his lips together, trying to not show his amusement. John raised his brows at his roommate shakily breathing through his nose before he started laughing. 

"You are one of those 'stupid alphas', bud. You were about to really start fighting." 

"Because I was defending you and Mary!" John brought up again, his hand going out in the direction of the bonfire. 

Arthur shook his head. "No one said you had to 'defend' me or Mary. You could've walked away."

John waved his hand over his shoulder in dismissal; he didn't want to admit that. He tried to walk away but was immediately pulled into it by the way they just stared on, all efforts gone into watching and licking their lips as if they were going to be invited. 

"I'm still going to the party. You in?" John asked, starting in the direction to the ODL house. It was a little further past the Outfields, on Frat Row. 

Arthur was silent, mulling it over with slight tilts of his head. "Fine, only 'cause you need the backup." 

"Shut up, I do not," John said. 

"Yeah, you do. You've got me.” Arthur draped his arm over John’s shoulders, gave him a friendly jostle. “We’ll text Charles on the way. Let’s go.”

When John and Arthur arrived at the party, they heard it before they saw it. The noise was offending-neighbors level, with the bass rattling out of the open window. The front yard was decorated with red-plastic cups and a single passed out person.

Arthur stopped short of the sidewalk, nudging the person in their side until they rolled over with a groan.

“An hour,” John said, walking up the sidewalk leading to the open front door.

“Are we sure we can get inside?” Arthur followed his roommate up the steps and into the crowded foyer of the house.

“Nobody’s watching the doors,” John said, throwing his hands up over the crowd. “Let’s find something to drink.”

Arthur waded through people, the groups of omegas huddling away from the alphas manning the drink station. John slowed down to make sure Arthur was nearby as he walked into the kitchen.

Pizza boxes were open on the kitchen island, most of them empty except for the one supreme pizza. The red solo cups were by the sink, with opened two liters next to them. The sink itself had an open bag of ice; on the opposite counter was an unmanned bowl of punch, sparkling and fizzing with sherbet.

Arthur stood by the wall while John pushed through the more people congregating around the sink.

“Want a drink?” John asked, pointing over to his friend.

Arthur shook his head; John pointed to the pizza with a hopeful smile but his roommate shook his head again.

John grabbed a plastic cup and shoveled ice into it before grabbing a dark soda two-liter. He poured the flat soda over the ice then returned to Arthur’s side.

“Super fun,” Arthur said, arms crossed before his chest and leaning towards John.

“Let’s walk around.” John grabbed his friend’s arm and they walked across to the dining room.

The table was set up for beer pong, a group of alphas against a couple of betas. Lining the walls were pairs of two and three talking intimately, holding their plastic cups close to them. John’s hand slipped down Arthur’s forearm to his wrist, walking through to the next room.

Even for a party full of people, it wasn’t entertaining. Arthur was right, it was better to cut their losses and order a pizza at the dorms. John set the cup down on an empty flat surface then turned to Arthur.

“Alright, I’m done. You ready to go?” John asked, retracting his hand from Arthur.

Arthur had buttoned up since they showed up, the discomfort blatant on his face. He nodded quickly, his eyes flicking to the front door. John sniffled casually; his nose gone completely blind from the mix of scents.

He followed his friend’s eyes to see the two alphas from the bonfire. Now in the light, just as creepy. Both of them were dressed in dark colors, one of them in a dark jean jacket and the other sported a neck scar.

It was fresh, with blood drying on his skin and darkening his shirt collar. Arthur motioned for John to start moving in the opposite direction of them, at least to avoid them.

They walked slowly, only for the two alphas to turn into the front room. Arthur grabbed John’s arm and yanked him back into the dining room.

John tried to keep his feet up and follow Arthur back through the house, now darting through the crowds with no intentions of being polite. They made it to the front of the foyer, only to be stopped by the scarred alpha blocking the front door.

“Hey, it’s the runt and his omega,” he said, gaining his friend’s attention and pointing out John and Arthur.

Arthur stopped, searched for their next exit and started backing them in the direction they came from. John tripped, trying to gain his footing, and tipped a cup onto an alpha’s shirt. He held his hands out in defense as he continued through the crowd following Arthur.

John followed Arthur back through the dining room and looked around to find an enclave doorway. The two ducked into the dark hallway, rushed down it to the closed door at the end. They’d hide out or try to wiggle out of a window unless they found a door.

Arthur pushed open the door, both boys barreling into the dimly lit room. The people inside it were vegging out, splayed on the couch and sitting on the floor while they listened to a record player.

John inhaled then quickly covered his hands over his mouth and nose. “Fuck.”

“What?” Arthur asked, assessing the room for a quick exit.

“Bestial,” John managed to say, his voice strained with the holding of his breath.

The stench of the air was thick, fetid. Sickeningly sweet and sticking in the hairs of his nose. John’d encountered it before in high school, his friends would smoke the liquid heat and hang out at football games.

Arthur turned to John fully, his eyes darting between John’s as he shut the door behind them. “John, you okay?”

John stared at Arthur, saw the omega’s eyes go cold; his eyes stung as his pupils dilated, the drug quickly setting itself in. He dropped his hands, inhaling again as his mind began to soften.

“We gotta go, John,” Arthur said, pointing to the window. He went to it, pushed it open then waved for his roommate to follow.

John watched Arthur climb out, then grinned and sniffed after him. He climbed out of the window and flopped onto his stomach. Arthur helped him to his feet and John leaned into him, fully inhaling his roommate.

“God, you smell good,” John said, his hands hovering to grab Arthur’s hips.

Still, he blinked and pried himself away from doing anything. Arthur held John’s shoulders, gave him a once over then patted his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get back to the dorms.”

They trekked back to the front of the house, meeting Charles at the sidewalk.

“Hey, I was just about to head inside. What’s wrong?” He asked, looking from his brother to John, who was slowing down.

“We went through a room; they had some fog drug.” Arthur stopped, glanced over his shoulder to the front door and urged for them to keep walking.

“Oh shit, Bestial.” Charles looked at his brother, saw the confusion on his face. “Synthetic omega heat, man.”

John stopped completely, doubling over himself with his hands on his knees. He felt the ground tilt closer to him, the scent now raking down his throat and leaving a tart taste. It was fake, John reminded himself. There was no way it would affect him the same.

His heart began to race the more he thought about it; he breathed slowly until he ended up panting. John’s vision fell out of sync, doubling.

“John,” Arthur said, going back to his friend. “Let’s get you home.”

At that, Arthur bent and grabbed John’s waist. He picked the alpha up, held him over his shoulder and started back in the direction of the campus.

The elevator doors opened and Arthur stepped out onto their floor. John woke up, blinking at the sight of Arthur’s thighs. He pressed his hand into the small of Arthur’s back to sit up, only for his hands to slip down his butt.

Charles chuckled at the alpha, holding two pizza boxes and a liter of soda. They walked down the hallway and stopped short of the dorm.

“Is he okay?” Abigail asked, rounding the stranger holding her boyfriend. “John, you okay?”

John sat up again, coming face to face with Abi. “Hey you.”

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked, her eyes scrutinizing as Arthur dug into his pocket to open the door.

“He ran into some bestial,” Charles added as Arthur held the door open with his foot and walked inside.

“Hi Charles,” Abi said, following Arthur in. The roommate rested John on his bed, pushing him towards the wall before sitting down.

“Hi, John’s girlfriend,” Charles said.

Abigail sat down at John’s desk, turned the chair to look over her boyfriend. She pulled his hair back, flicked him in the forehead.

“Jackass, you tried bestial?”

John squinted his eyes open again, blinking slowly as he focused on his girlfriend’s face. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun, her crystalline blue eyes staring down at him. He sniffled lightly, frowning at her scent.

“Your roommate,” Abi lowered her voice, leaning towards John’s forehead. “is hot. I thought you were gonna get a new one.”

“For all you know, he is the new one,” John whispered back, his eyes fluttering close as he sniffed in Arthur’s direction.

“He smells fucking good,” Abigail said with a growl, her eyes turned up to stare at Arthur.

Arthur and Charles set up his laptop on his desk chair; Charles sat down on the floor and opened the first box of pizza, held it up for Arthur to take a slice.

“You want some pizza?” Charles asked to Abigail.

Abi sat up and shook her head. “No thanks boys. I don’t plan on staying.” She flicked at John’s forehead again and pushed to her feet.

John winced slightly, sitting up and crossing his legs. “Abi, stay.”

“No,” Abigail said, passing by the boys.

John tried to scramble over the foot of his bed, then rushed after Abigail as she left the room.

“What the hell, you came all this way. You waited how long?”

“An hour. I thought we could hang out.” Abigail kept walking.

“You never answered my texts, how was I supposed to know?”

They stopped at the elevators with John fishing his phone free, the lock screen still empty of any notifications.

“I was tryin’ to surprise you, guess I shouldn’t have done that.” Abigail pressed the button once, twice for the elevator.

John raised his hands in confusion, them caging around his head. “Why’re you so upset right now? I was just caught off-guard.” His heart was racing wildly now, adrenaline kicking into his system with the bestial tarring in his spit.

“You’re still bunking with the omega, John!” Abigail snapped away from staring at the elevator with a huff. “He reeks and you’re-you’re huffing bestial. How the hell am I supposed to react to that?”

John furrowed his brows, his hands balling to fists. “You think I can’t control myself? You have nothing to worry about.”

Even now, Abigail’s rampant stench was making John’s stomach churn. His shoulders bulked up with frustration, a part of him waiting out until he could be in the room with Arthur again.

“Yeah, I feel very safe in that,” Abigail said with a scoff as the elevator doors opened. She stepped inside, turned around. “I see it in your eyes, John. You’re attracted to him.”

“I am not! Babe, there’s nothing going on between us.” John slammed his hand in the door to stop it from closing.

Abigail shook her head, pushing the first-floor button. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You call me when you’re done with the omega.”

She reached and shoved John out of the doors, letting the silver shut before his face. John stared at his reflection in the silence, finally seeing his eyes reduced to dilated black pupils. He inhaled deeply, exhaled just the same before leaning his head to the door.

“Hey bud, you okay?” Arthur asked, walking down the hallway to John.

John perked up then, at Arthur approaching him. “Y-yeah. She has to work early in the morning, just wanted to check on me.”

He met Arthur halfway then made his way back to the dorm. “You guys go ahead, I’m gonna use the restroom.”

John stepped into the bathroom, locked the door behind him before he pressed his back to it. He tried to level his breathing, his heart still thumping in his chest.

The movie started, its muffled introduction seeping through the bathroom door. John went to the counter and turned on the faucet, letting the warm water run over his fingers.

He splashed his face, rubbed his fists into his eyes then patted at his cheeks. John felt like he was going to burst through his skin, rubbing at his temples as they throbbed.

He released a heavy growl, gripping the edge of the counter; his skin heated the more he stood still with blood rushing to his crotch. John turned his head slightly, tried to ease the rush away. But he caught onto the scent from one of the towels draped on the shower. Arthur’s.

No, he had to calm down. He had to leave and eat something. Still, he reached for the towel and balled it in his hand. John fought the growing onset of rut, holding his breath while the fabric was before his face.

He gripped tighter at the fabric, his other hand going to adjust his erection. John slammed his hands down with an outward growl. He’d stay in here as long as it took, he wouldn’t subject Arthur or Charles to any more of his behavior tonight.

John could calm himself down; he knew he’d have to, because he was better than stooping to sniff at an omega’s things. He was not going to succumb to it.

Even with his own reassurance, John found himself thinking about Arthur’s thighs and how thick they were. The degenerate part of his mind imagined the omega’s thighs squeezing around his cock.

He pulled himself out of the though, tightening his fists. John bent over the counter, still trying to get over the hot coal feeling in his gut. He hissed inwardly, holding his breath as he wiggled his hand down the front of his pants.

John took grip of his cock, squeezed at it with anger. He exhaled steadily, squeezing his eyes shut to not think of anything as he began to stroke.

He should’ve gone after Abigail, but now he was biting into his bottom lip to keep from grunting and masturbating in the bathroom. John’s breathing was shallow, inhaling Arthur’s scent from the towel wetting in the sink.

After he was finished, John cleaned himself up. He washed his hands, wrung out Arthur’s damp towel as much as possible before shutting off the water and unlocking the door.

Charles and Arthur were on the floor, exclusively sharing the first box of pizza.

“Everything okay?” Charles asked, not looking away from the computer screen.

“Yeah,” John said, dropping the damp towel into his laundry basket. He climbed over the foot of his bed and leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza.

He held his breath as he passed by Arthur, then sat back on his bed to take a bite of his slice.

“What’re we watching?”

John woke up on Saturday morning, staring at Arthur. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to bother with getting himself out of bed. His body felt different, his heart never relaxing.

He was swinging into his rut early. John wrote down that next week he’d need the rut room but now he was on the cusp of it. His hand reached out to grab his phone, to text Charles that there was a change of schedule.

John pushed himself out of bed, his stomach growling with an immense hunger. He held his breath while he grabbed his backpack, stuffing it full of clothes for the upcoming week.

Stuffing his feet into his shoes, John grabbed his toothbrush and phone charger then zipped his backpack closed.

“Arthur,” he said lowly.

His roommate groaned tiredly, barely raising his head up from the pillow.

“I gotta go check into the room. I’ll see you later.”

Arthur hummed, then shot up out of bed. “Hey, what?”

“Yeah,” John said, taking a step towards the door. “D-don’t move, okay? I’ll just text you when I’m out.”

“Did I do something?” Arthur asked, grabbing a nearby shirt and pulling it on.

John shook his head. “No, it was that stupid synthetic.” He backed further to the door, his free hand wringing the strap of his backpack. “Just, stop moving until I get leave.”

Arthur chuckled lowly, grabbing his shoes and stamping into them. “You ain’t gonna do nothing.” He looked at John and pointed. “You grab your Rut Squeezer?”

John groaned at Arthur. “Stop talking please. I really should go.”

Arthur waved at his friend. “You stop worrying, you’re not dangerous, John. Now where is it? I’ll grab it for you.”

“Under the bed.” John motioned to the mostly empty brown box at the head of his bed.

Arthur bent down and grabbed it and John shut his eyes to not see his thighs. His roommate straightened up with an exhale and stopped short of John to give him the plain white box.

“Don’t think of me when you use it,” Arthur joked.

John’s eyes flashed open, his blood going cold again. He quickly put the box in his backpack’s side pocket then fumbled with the door to their dorm.

“Shut up, I’d never,” John retorted.

He was out of the room with his heart drumming in his chest. John took a few clean gulps of air in and out then walked down the length of the hallway before turning left at the end.

The small hallway had four doors on one side; above each door was a light. The available rooms were lit with a white light, while the only unavailable room was red. John walked down the hallway to the last door, retrieving his ID card from his wallet.

He swiped his card before the reader on the door and it unlocked. John opened the door and quickly turned to close it.

John pressed his back to it and sank to the floor. He’d have to text Abigail about this, and apologize for the night before.

He wouldn’t apologize about Arthur though; he’d done nothing wrong. John trusted himself in his right mind and if Arthur wasn’t backing out, why would he?

Arthur said it himself, John wasn’t dangerous to him. And the only time they’d have to be wary was in this exact moment. John stared across the room, a padded white area with a plain setup.

A twin bed in the corner of the room, overlooking the canteen courtyard. A desk at the foot of the bed, facing the wall. The rest of the room was open like a studio, a shower stall, toilet and sink in the corner closest to the door and a couch chair in the middle of it all.

A simple white board was hung on the wall stating the rules:

  1. No unmated couples in the rut room
  2. All mated couples must have readily available contraceptive
  3. No destruction of property
  4. No opposite Epsilon gender guests after 10 pm
  5. Stay safe, stay sane, stay scented



John rolled his eyes, bringing his knees up to rest his head. This was going to be worse than rooming with an omega. He muscled down, standing up to unpack his backpack.

He put his clothes on the couch chair, set his laptop on his bed and his chargers on the desk. John set his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink then sat back down with the only thing left from his bag.

John tapped his fingers on the outside of the white box, his hands weighing it with deep thought. He tore open the lid and slid the mechanism out. It was thermos-shaped, a cylinder, and dark grey.

His hand hovered over the lid of the thing itself, unsure of what to expect underneath. John scoffed to himself with the thought of it just being a non-descript hole, just pliable enough and soft enough to be considered a sex toy.

With enough waiting, he did uncover it to see a dull grey hole. Just as he expected. No details to determine whether it was a vagina or ass, it was all left up to the imagination.

John exhaled, not relieved or eased by it. He put the lid back on the toy then reached for his phone. He decided to text Arthur for his soap and shampoo, also a towel, because he left in such a hurry for no explainable reason.

Arthur responded in no time, barely a minute later, and asked if John could wait, if he’d like some Cattleman breakfast. John smirked and replied that he was always up for the biggest breakfast of his life.

“This looks like a prison cell,” Arthur said as John propped the door wide enough for his breakfast and hygiene items to come through.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have your own cell soon enough,” John taunted, setting aside his things and edging the door closed. “I’ll pay you back, okay? You gotta go.”

“Come on, John, put some faith into yourself. You’re not feral, let me in.” Arthur stood sturdily against the door. “We can go over our Epsilon notes. Discussion’s on Monday.”

John brought his bottom lip in, weighing Arthur’s offer. He shook his head. “Nope, can’t take that chance. Just call me and we’ll go over it.”

He was holding his breath again, not trusting that he wouldn’t ingest Arthur’s scent.

“What, you scared of a little omega?” Arthur joked, a playful grin splaying on his lips.

“Have you seen you? Hate to break it to you, but you ain’t little. I’m sure you could kick my ass,” John said, his smile reflecting Arthur’s.

Arthur bowed his head with a laugh. “You’re right. Come on, just until we’re done with breakfast.”

“You’re asking me to hold my breath that long.” John leaned his head against the door. He blinked slowly. “Dunno if I can do it.”

Arthur pouted his bottom lip out. “I trust you, John. I showered and everything.”

John didn’t want to fold, he was strong-willed. He could tell Arthur ‘no’ another time, but with his roommate pouting, John folded and backed away from the door.

Arthur walked inside and John closed the door after him; he pulled out the chair from the desk as John grabbed his things and deposited them on the couch chair.

He sat down on his bed and dug into the brown paper bag from the Horseshoe. Arthur was already digging into his breakfast in a to-go bowl; John pulled free the heavy bowl and retrieved his fork then opened the lid.

His focus was food, he had to eat even though his body was starting to shut down in anticipation. He’d need the energy. With a huff, John stabbed into his hash and shoveled it into his mouth then a strip of bacon to follow.

Arthur sat back in his chair, kicking a foot up on the end of the bed while he ate. John kept his eyes down, staring at the greasy conglomerate of breakfast.

“Karen was asking about you,” Arthur said after a few chews. “Said she has a slice of cake with your name on it.”

John scoffed to himself, moving onto his eggs and breaking the yolks free. The act itself wasn’t interesting but when the egg oozed free yellow, John growled with interest.

“I should’ve asked you for a slice but this is enough,” John said, shoveling the next part of his breakfast into his mouth without tasting it.

He wasn’t exaggerating to Arthur when he said he’d hold his breath. While Arthur trusted him, John didn’t want to catch onto the dampened undertone of the omega and lose himself.

Arthur stared around the plain room and shook his head. “Now that I see it all, it looks like a hospital room.”

John nodded, grabbing one slice of his patty melt and biting into it. Arthur put his feet to the floor, then set his breakfast on the desk before reaching for the toy John was given.

“D’you use it yet?” Arthur asked, shaking the thing in one hand.

John’s eyes darted up at Arthur with a furrow of his brows. “No. And why would you touch it?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s clean, isn’t it?”

John rolled his eyes and returned to his patty melt. “Yeah, thank your lucky stars.”

Arthur popped the lid of the toy and stared at it. He poked at the part around the hole before sticking a finger in. John dropped his breakfast bowl to his lap and his patty melt from his mouth.

“Dude!” John said, snatching the toy from his roommate. “I’m gonna use that.”

“You are?”

John stared at Arthur, stammered to find an answer before he quickly turned away. “I mean, maybe. I don’t want you fingering my…uh…”

John suddenly lost his train of thought, staring at the toy in his hand. He held his hand up.

“Let me not finish that sentence. Give me the lid.” John held his free hand out for the other part of the toy.

Arthur slapped the lid into John’s palm then sat back. “I dunno if I’m gonna use mine. That knot is intimidating.”

John lidded the toy again then tossed it aside. He hid a gulp, returning to his breakfast.

“Arthur, I’m begging you. Stop talking about that.”

“What?” Arthur grabbed a forkful of his breakfast and put it in his mouth.

“You know what.” John shut his eyes, exhaling and inhaling quickly. “Don’t talk about knots.”

“What, am I gonna spoil the mood with your toy? Thinking about me sitting on a—”

John stood up then, dropping his breakfast bowl to the floor. “Alright. Get out.”

“What is going on with you, bud? You’ve been acting weird since last night. Are you sure you’re going into rut? That it’s not just that synthetic?”

John bent down to scoop up his breakfast and threw away the food that touched the floor. “Arthur, I…can’t talk to you about it, okay? I’m not in the mindset to function.”

“If you want me to stop talking about it, fine.”

“Are we that close to talk about masturbation?” John asked, setting the rest of his breakfast back in the brown paper bag.

“I mean, I hope so. We’re in the masturbation room.” Arthur motioned to the rest of the plain white room.

John broke into full laughter at that. He tried to cringe at the thought of using this room after so many alphas and omegas but it was funny for it to be referred that way.

“You got me there, I guess.” John sat down on his bed heavily. “New ground rules then. No talk about knots until week five of friendship.”

“So now I’m your friend,” Arthur said with a smirk at his breakfast.

“Yeah,” John turned to his roommate. “We’re gonna be hanging out a lot, right? Unless you want to switch out.”

“No, you’re stuck with me. I’ll be here everyday for you.”

“I’m not dying, Arthur. Just horny.” John scoffed to himself.

Arthur snorted. “New ground rule two, we don’t talk about being horny until week four.”

“Deal,” John said.

Later that night, John lay on his back, staring at the streetlamp light the streaked across his ceiling. He decided to call Abigail before he fell into full rut.

Setting his phone on his chest, it rang while on speaker. He thought of what he was going to say, each trill sinking into his heart.

“Hello?” Abigail answered on the fourth ring.

“Hey,” John said.

There was a silence over the line until Abigail sighed. “Hey John.”

“I called to apologize—”

“I think we should take a break—” They both spoke at the same time, and soon there was another moment of silence with John’s realization.

“Wait, what?” John sat up, grabbing his phone and leaning over it. “Abigail, if this is about last night…”

“John, just stop talking a minute,” Abigail spoke up over John.

His heart sank further, now pitted on the hot coals in his gut. But he waited for Abi to say something, maybe take it back.

“I’m not jealous, or insecure. You know that, but whatever’s going on with you and Arthur makes me uncomfortable.”

John waited a second longer before he decided to speak. “We’re just trying to get comfortable with each other. We can be friends.”

“You’re right, and I know. But I still…don’t believe it all the way. I saw how you looked at him, John. Whether you’re friends or not, you like him more.”

John’s eyes fluttered anxiously, his heart now rattling against his chest; his breathing hitched. “That’s not it. It was my pre-rut, you have nothing to worry about.”

Abigail exhaled heavily over the phone, barely shifting in her seat. “Whatever you say now is gonna sound like an excuse. I saw what I saw. You did not want me there.”

John folded further over himself, holding his forehead in his hand. “Abigail, you didn’t let me know. I’d have waited for you to show up, we could’ve gone to the bonfire together.”

“John, stop.” Abigail sniffled over the receiver and John felt it start to sink in that she was serious. He was getting broken up with a week into college.

“Abigail, why’re you doing this? I love you. You never have to worry about it.” John tried, the words escaping his lips leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

“You’re lying to yourself.” Abigail reassured him. “You like that omega. Just admit it so we can be done.”

John shook his head, the scrunching of his face causing a headache. “No, stop, stop! That’s not it. I love you!” He raised his voice, his chest heaving in anguish.

Abigail gasped over the phone and John opened his eyes after he realized his mistake. His eyes felt heavy with tears, a first for him from any fight he’d had with Abgail.

“Leave me alone, John!” Abigail yelled back. “Don’t call me back again.”

The phone call ended abruptly, John’s phone screen resolving to the wallpaper of Abigail sleeping under his suede jacket the night they went to the drive-in. He stared at the picture as a tear broke free, falling to the white sheet underneath him.

Soon the phone shut off, leaving John to stare at his own reflection; head in both hands now, his hair umbrella’d over his fingers. He waited for Abigail to calm down, call him back, for an hour then two until he was sure she was asleep.

His chest heaved, his breath shortening with his vision tunneling. John was up now, pacing the length of the room with his fists tightening and loosening anxiously. He tried to stop his hear from racing, from pounding as the tears dried from his face.

John couldn’t stop himself, only circling and spiraling fully into his rut. He lost his voice, only grunting and clutching at his chest. He shrugged off his shirt as his skin heated to its apex. He reached out for his phone, ready to throw it, but instead sank to his knees to seethe.

Abigail was being irrational. She was seeing what she wanted, John assumed. He wondered how long she was thinking about this breakup, if it was as soon as John said he met Arthur.

He couldn’t think about it, curling over his lap with a growl. John folded his hands over the back of his neck, opening his mouth fully for a bass-filled snarl.


	7. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John spends a full week in the Room, and Arthur visits everyday. John tries to not depend on Arthur for entertainment.

John took a cold shower the next morning, resting his head against the white tile of the shower stall. His skin still stung with heat, he couldn't get comfortable in the bed after Abigail hung up on him. Instead, he went over his class notes from Probability and Functions while he could focus. 

Then he stomached through the rest of his leftover breakfast from Arthur the day before. 

The water beat down on the back of John's head, parting his long hair into strands and dripping to the floor. John kept his eyes shut, tried to let himself be calmed. He yawned, then shifted closer to the tile, his face pressing fully to the cool white. 

Outside of the shower, his phone buzzed and John perked up, wondering it was Abigail. He waited before he shut off the shower, stepping out of the stall and grabbing his towel. He only bothered to dry his hair, his skin already drying from his body running hot. 

John picked up his phone from his bed and looked at the lock screen, only receiving a text from Arthur. 

'Hey bud, breakfast time?' 

He smiled dryly at his roommate, draping his towel on his shoulder as he opened his phone to reply. 

'Not feeling hungry'

John set his phone down and went back to the sink to brush his teeth, his phone buzzing again. He waited out his time to reply, decorating his toothbrush with toothpaste as he turned on the faucet. He went back to toweling down his hair until it was to his satisfaction of dryness.

'You gotta eat, John'

He scoffed at his friend, abandoning his toothbrush in his mouth and replying again. 

'I already owe you from yesterday'

'Get over it. You'll pay me back' 

While John thought about it, he did just that, sending twenty dollars to Arthur's phone number. 

'Coffee and cake please'

'That all?'

John nodded to himself and sent a nervous grin emoji to Arthur before setting his phone down again. He went back to getting ready for the day, brushing his teeth then dressing himself. He cleaned up his couch chair for Arthur to sit then sat down on his bed. 

He opened his laptop and turned on a tv show, just something to play in the background. When Arthur showed up, John pulled his hair back into a bun and went to the door. 

"Hey, whoa," Arthur said quickly, eyes going wide at John's change in demeanor. 

John had bags under his eyes, breathing through his mouth while his hair still dripped on his shirt. 

"What?" John was short, looking over himself and back at his roommate. 

"D'you get to sleep? You look like a wreck." Arthur pushed the door open, passing John. 

John inhaled against his better judgement and his heart went heavy. He turned his head, following after Arthur with more sniffing. He gulped, his throat going dry, and grabbed at Arthur's wrist. 

Arthur stopped, looking from John's hand on his wrist to the alpha himself. His face went from placid to offended, John's scent rampant in the room. 

John stepped to the omega, resting his head on Arthur's shoulder. He was slow, nuzzling his temple against his friend. John rubbed his face to Arthur's forearm, then back to his chest. The act was calming, the hot coals in his gut dying down. 

"It's okay, John," Arthur said, shaking his hand free from the alpha's hold. "If you want, I'll give you this shirt."

John shook his head as he stopped, his face directly between Arthur's pectorals. "I'll stink it up." 

Arthur laughed, the sound rattling through his chest and in John's face. He swallowed back the sudden pooling of drool in his mouth. 

"You smell good," John muttered, his nose planting in Arthur's shirt. Even with the dampeners, his friend's scent shocked down his spine and brought more drool.

Arthur pressed his hand to John's forehead, pried the alpha from his chest. "You need to eat."

John's eyes flicked up to meet Arthur's and growled. Arthur brought the two brown paper bags before John's face and smiled. 

"You'll feel better." Arthur pulled his hand away and went to sit down.

John trudged to his bed, sank to the floor before it then reached for his brown paper bag. Arthur held out the coffee cup with his other hand and John thanked him. 

He pried the lid off of the coffee cup, drank it down without taking a moment to taste. John then pulled free the saran-wrapped cake and tore the plastic away; he pinched off large bites of the cake and shoveled them into his mouth until it was gone. 

"So you weren't hungry?" Arthur asked over his coffee cup.

"Shut up," John snapped lowly, his energy not in the right place. 

Arthur took it in stride, eating his breakfast in the silence. John rested his head back against the bed and shut his eyes while he could, hoping for a little bit of solace with Arthur around. He felt content with drifting off to sleep, his efforts gone fully into nesting. 

There was no mating for him; all he wanted was Arthur's shirt, or for Arthur to wear one of his shirts and come back with it. John was startled by something draping over his face, enveloping him in Arthur's infatuating scent. 

"And I'll borrow one of your shirts. Then I'll bring it back tomorrow. We can do that for a week, you'll get through this, bud." Arthur leaned forward, patted John on his knee. 

His warm palm instantly cooled at John's skin, his fingers wisping away with a chill to follow. 

"So did you get any sleep?" Arthur asked. 

John didn't bother to move his roommate's shirt from his face, encasing himself in the warm woodsy scent as he shook his head. 

"Too wired?" 

"Abigail broke up with me." 

"Wait," Arthur shifted in his seat and pulled free his shirt from John's face to get a better look at him, "What?"

John swallowed dryly and gave his friend a quick nod. "Yep. Last night."

"Did she say why? She was so concerned the other night." 

John tilted his head to lock eyes with Arthur, his lake blues catching and reflecting the bright sky outside the window. He scoffed and turned his head away. "Nope, didn't say," he lied.

"I'm sorry to hear that, John. Is there anything I can do?" 

John shifted his head in a shake, staring blankly at the far-off wall. The show from his laptop was muffling into the bed, its theme song rattling into his ear. "Not really."

Arthur reached out anyways, rested his hand on John's forehead and turned the alpha to look at him. "It's gonna be okay. You're not dying." 

John shrugged; now that Arthur mentioned it, he could compare it to that. With each little touch Arthur gave was a droplet on the coals, making steam and churning his body further towards the other aspect of rut. He gently swatted his friend's hand away. 

"I know." 

Arthur stared at John, suddenly a deflated, overheated version of himself. "What would you like for lunch?" 

"Nothing, Arthur." John sniffed in, the omega scent striking a chord in his heart. "Just go and I'll talk to you later."

Arthur gathered his trash and threw it away. He stopped before John, rubbed his shirt on both sides of his neck then under his arms before tossing it back at the alpha. 

"Don't...get it messy," Arthur said, restraining his words. 

John scoffed, unamused, bringing the shirt to drape over his face again. "No promises." 

Arthur grinned, though John couldn't see it, and let himself out. "I'll see you for dinner, okay?"

John groaned softly under the shirt, though he enjoyed the companionship deep down. The door shut firmly and John reached out to find the canister. He knew it was wrong as he waded his sweatpants down from his waist, exposing his butt to the cool floor. But damn it if he was already tired of holding it in. 

So Arthur smelled good to him, that wasn't attraction. If Abigail saw what John was doing, she'd have questions, but he had nothing scented of hers. Not that it would get him far. He'd be stuck at that edge for a long time, hoping that another sniff would topple it over. 

It'd never happen though. John inhaled deeply at Arthur's shirt, pulling free the lid of his toy and turning it upside down. 

His other hand grabbed at the base of his cock, flaccid and hot, then guided the two towards each other. John exhaled deeply as a foreign squeeze enveloped him, soft but dull and cold. He'd get over it. 

With another deep inhale, John's eyes fluttered, bringing the toy back up and then down with every exhale. After a while, it felt fine. And he wasn't even thinking about Arthur. 

It was just radio silence in his head while he masturbated, no echoing back to the times he spent with Abigail or the thought of Arthur's thighs. His mind was dead while he was driven by pure instinct.

John texted Arthur around noon that he wasn’t hungry. He wouldn’t be, because of all the potatoes he’d ingested in the past week.

Arthur responded with a laugh out loud, that it was good timing because John was looking like he was about to bulk up. He sent another text afterwards saying he was completely kidding, that he’d leave something light outside John’s room in case he was lying.

John smiled at his phone, set it on the windowsill next to his laptop. He pushed his comforter to the foot of the bed, deciding to lie down with the thin sheet. He drifted off to sleep, waking up three hours later with Arthur’s shirt planted directly under his nose.

John didn’t want to waste the scent, he only wanted to use it for the comfort. He tried to not rub himself on it, to keep it as pure as he could.

He rolled over on his stomach, pressing his face into it anyways. He waded his sweatpants down again, rubbed himself against the sheets as he inhaled and exhaled steadily Arthur’s scent.

Still, there was nothing.

By the third day of the room, John felt stir crazy. He was wearing Arthur’s newest shirt exclusively, pacing around the room and trying to find something else to do other than touch.

Now it was setting in like regular rut, the scent from Arthur’s shirt driving John to rub his face in the collar, sit down and huddle himself inside of it before shrugging it off and placing it over his face as he succumbed to his nature.

John was counting the minutes now, already done with his homework for the week, until he was done with the stupid rut and back in a normal setting.

The thought of Abigail now took the furthest backseat, anything and everything else was now at the forefront. John thought that now it wouldn’t hurt to go to an ALA/OLO meeting; maybe he could also try out for field hockey.

He saw signups on the school app. Maybe he’d look into buying a projector because it’d be better for movie nights. Maybe he’d cut his hair.

All of it was a nagging thought, each one after the other. But the only calming, consistent one was hanging out with Arthur again.

They definitely had to find a new restaurant to eat at, no offense to Karen, but John was definitely sure that they hadn’t even ordered anything different in all that time.

He texted Arthur, asked him if he had any plans for the night because he was down to watch a movie, even one of the weird black-and-white ones Arthur liked.

‘Having dinner with Mary. Will see you after. Let me know if you’re hungry.’

John deflated again, on the floor after pacing himself sick. How’d he know Arthur would say that? It was bad enough that John took up all of Arthur’s free time anyways.

Maybe they needed more friends. Maybe John needed more friends. Arthur had his brothers here with him, even his annoying half-brother that he never liked to mention.

John had Arthur and Charles. Mary didn’t count because she hated his entire being. Karen barely counted because he knew she was nice because of their regular meetings.

That’d be the first thing he’d do when he got out. No, an ALA meeting then new friends. Or maybe ALA, trying out for field hockey then friends.

Or just hang out with Arthur and let everything fall into place after. John shrugged off Arthur’s shirt again, no longer savoring the scent but milking it for all it was worth. As long as it left his mind blank, John had no problems.

He assumed the position, draping his friend’s shirt over his face and grabbing his canister. The sooner it was sweated out, the sooner John could return to normal.

By the time night crept, John was sore. He’d gone a little too hard at one point and came at whiplash speed, leaving him to seethe and hiss every time he tried to move.

A shower barely helped, and the ache only made the hot coals sizzle brighter. At least he was feeling something other than anguish and instinct.

John texted Arthur that he wasn’t hungry and that he’d have to pass on movies. He way overdid it. He set the phone beside his pillow and he tucked Arthur’s shirt under it; the phone buzzed once, then again. Three times before John realized someone was calling.

He snatched his phone up and looked at the caller ID; Arthur.

“Hey,” he said, resting the phone on his chest while he stared at the ceiling.

“I hope you’re getting it out of your system. That’s my best shirt,” Arthur said.

John grinned at him. “New ground rule three, don’t talk about rut club.”

“Fine,” Arthur agreed, his tone lightening at the end of it. John imagined his smile over the receiver. “But make it inclusive.”

“Rut-slash-heat club then.”

“What goes down in the room, stays in the room.”

John nodded. “I wholeheartedly agree. How was dinner?”

Arthur sighed heavily, expressively saying that Mary was nowhere around. “A disaster. Mary invited her girl friends out and I don’t know why I even bothered.”

In the background, John could hear the elevator stopping just as he heard footsteps starting in the far hall.

He sat up on his elbow. “Dude, that sucks. Are you headed back to our dorm now?”

The faint jingling of keys were heard over the receiver. “Yeah. You need anything?”

John shook his head ‘no’. “We can still watch a movie though, if you’re okay with me being bedridden.”

The footsteps stopped, the keys freezing. John expected Arthur to turn him down, finally take his own time to sleep without having to bother.

“Sure. I’ll be there in a minute,” Arthur said.

John rested on his back again. “Okay, I’ll open the door for you.”

Arthur showed up in his pajamas, hair damp from a shower. John held the door open, checked down the hallway to make sure Arthur wasn’t seen then shut it.

“Were you getting ready for bed? You could’ve gone to bed,” John said, awkwardly waddling back to his bed.

“Nah. It’s too quiet without your snoring.” Arthur joked, sitting down on the couch.

“It’s past curfew for us.” John mentioned, climbing back into bed but nodding towards the sign.

“It’s Charles on duty tonight. We’re fine,” he said, standing up and waving his hand at John. “Now move over. I’m getting in.”

“I can just sit up,” John offered, but Arthur shook his head.

“Rut club secrecy but I have it on good authority you broke your cock.” Arthur laughed.

John sat up slightly, scooted closer to the wall. “What’s the penalty of breaking a ground rule?”

“Guess we’ll have to come up with that huh?” Arthur sat down in the bed, draped the comforter over his feet. “We do the other one’s homework.”

“That sounds like a reward,” John said, rolling over to grab his laptop then set it on Arthur’s lap. “Go on, look up one of your movies.”

Arthur chuckled, making himself comfortable next to John. “Alright. Have you ever seen ‘Shogun Assassin’?”

John looked up at his friend and shook his head. Arthur’s grin widened and he began to type it in.

“You’re in for a treat, my friend.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

With the one pillow on the bed, Arthur wedged it between his back and the metal headboard. John held his head in his hand at the beginning of the film until his arm fell asleep; he sat up on his elbows then ended up resting his head on the mattress, watching over Arthur’s thigh.

Halfway through the movie, Arthur shifted further into the bed, splitting the pillow with John while the laptop rested on his stomach. John was quiet, willing to take in the movie; when he looked over to Arthur, he’d fallen asleep.

He shook his head, turned down the volume for the movie and kept on watching, ducking his head to rest on Arthur’s shoulder. In his right ear, John heard the steady beating of his roommate’s heart, a cadence he hadn’t had in five days.

John tilted his nose to sniff at Arthur’s shirt; it was freshly washed, a bit damp from Arthur’s eagerness from the shower. But his scent pulled through the most.

The movie ended with the credits flashing on the screen and John glanced up at Arthur to see if he’d woken up.

“Arthur,” John whispered, shutting his laptop on his friend’s stomach. He picked up his computer and moved it to the windowsill, not making any sudden movements. “Arthur.”

His roommate hummed dully, turning his head in John’s direction.

“You can go to bed now, it’s late,” John said, his heart never ceasing. The instinct was getting its fill, an omega in the same bed as him. Smelling insane to him.

Arthur had a lot of trust in him; it was almost concerning. Omegas never sidled up to stranger alphas like this, but maybe recessives were different.

John always had to consider that recessives were backwards compared to their dominant counterparts. He gulped and nudged the boy in the shoulder, sitting up to stare down at him.

The night shined in, dashing over Arthur’s calm face. The milky blue enveloped the omega and John had to admit, once again, that he was something to look at. His long dark eyelashes were long as they lay against his taut cheeks, his jawline stubbled with brownish-red.

“You got to go to bed now, Arthur,” John said, shoving his friend in the side.

The hot coals in his gut roared the more he tried to free the omega from his bed. Arthur was about as heavy as he looked. The sturdiness came from someplace.

“Mary’s gonna kill me if she finds out about this.” John shook at Arthur’s shoulder. He hummed again, his eyes fluttering slowly open before closing again.

Arthur rolled onto his side, facing the window and John. This was not happening; John was not going to let this happen.

“Arthur!” He hissed lowly, directly in his friend’s ear.

John was thoroughly ignored, with Arthur’s sleep-heavy arm draping over his waist. His heart was about to explode from his chest; he couldn’t lay down, even if he wanted to.

He could try but he’d end up staring directly in Arthur’s face while he slept. John tried to control his ramped-up breathing as he lay back, turning on his side and tucking his hands under his head.

He urged himself to take a few deep breaths, he was fine. This was fine. Just a regular sleepover. John forced his eyes shut to not intensively examine Arthur’s softened face. He shifted himself the furthest to the wall, leaving a small amount of bed between them.

John tried to not make any movements, not even to roll over. Arthur, however, moved closer, cutting the miniscule distance between them.

He felt Arthur’s short nose breaths on his lips; John held his breath and folded his lips in. Why didn’t Arthur snore tonight of all nights?

John tried to imagine the beach, like he had the first night he was in the dorms. The warm sand, the vast horizons, the lack of people. He imagined soaking up the rays, staring up at the cloudless sky with Arthur by his side.

His eyes shot open. No. John blinked slowly, eyes darting between both of Arthur’s. Not everywhere had to be with Arthur.

John closed his eyes again, tried to get back to the mindset of the beach without Arthur. Yet there Arthur was.

John ducked his face into his sliver of pillow, wishing for his mind to go blank. He tried a third time, no longer thinking of the beach but now embracing the plain darkness behind his lids.

His breathing began to slow along with his heart, mulling through the plain endless depth of black. John relaxed his shoulders and slipped further into the void of sleep just as Arthur nudged a bit closer.

The following morning, John woke up to an empty bed. He rolled onto his back with a groan, expecting it to be a wildly vivid dream but the sheets said differently.

They reeked of Arthur, all the way down to the foot of the bed. It was a godsend for John, and the most agonizing present he’d ever been given.

His dick was rubbed raw; all the scent could give him now was comfort. John nuzzled his face into Arthur’s side of the bed, where his shoulders were, up to the pillow where his damp hair dried.

That was the best part; John curled his arms around the pillow and buried his face in it, his mind racing now with the thought of Arthur dripping wet. If he ever air-dried in John’s vicinity, he’d have to be out of commission for a week.

It was intoxicating. John hummed, smiling against the fabric as he began to drift off to sleep, no longer feeling the hot coal in his gut.

His eyes snapped open suddenly and he raised his head from the pillow. He liked Arthur. 


	8. For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally leaves the room and gets back into the swing of things with Arthur. Arthur signs up for a sketching class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for getting your expectations up with a chapter a night, before. 
> 
> That was mean. 
> 
> Make it like two chapters a week, maybe.

John milked the sheets for all that they were worth, the hot coal feeling in his gut sated for the moment. He felt normal, like he was ready to leave the room. But it wasn't up to him, it was up to indicator by the door. 

Not that it wasn't voluntary, but if he checked himself out early, it'd be a strike. John didn’t bother moving, though, unabashedly indulging in Arthur’s scent before it was tainted with his own.

After he had his fill, John rolled back and grabbed his phone as it vibrated on the windowsill.

‘How was the movie last night?’ Arthur texted.

John smiled, propping his chin in the middle of the pillow and deeply inhaling another whiff of his roommate.

‘Should I be asking you that? Was it projected on the back of your eyelids?’

Arthur sent back a laughing out loud, he got too comfortable too quickly. Then he asked if John wanted breakfast, but something lighter than the Cattleman’s Special.

‘Surprise me and let me know when you get here’

John set his phone under the pillow, slammed his face into the softness and rubbed his face harshly. He refused to acknowledge that he was smiling the whole time, that his heart was once again revving at the thought of the omega being in his presence.

He pushed up to sit; John did not like Arthur. He told himself so, they were just starting to be friends. Or maybe he did like Arthur, but as a friend. A shirt-sharing, bed-sharing, breakfast-sharing friend.

Arthur didn’t act any different; he was just as friendly as the first night they met. John shook his head, balled a fist and smacked himself square in the chest. He was a friend, heart, stop acting that way.

Biology was weird. Epsilon type attraction was just as confusing as normal attraction; John tried to not think about it. If anything, he thought that Abigail was even more off.

He was attracted to women, alpha or omega didn’t matter. John held his head; going over it in his head would never help.

“I’m not attracted to Arthur,” John whispered, folding his hands to his forehead. “Of course, you’re not. He just smells good to my alpha senses.”

That was enough. Arthur knocked at the door no less than an hour later and John opened it to him and Charles.

“Thought you’d like to see another face other than my ugly mug,” Arthur said with a grin.

John brightened, looking from Arthur to Charles. The quiet RA raised a hand and nodded.

“How’re you feeling?” Charles asked.

John stepped back from the door, letting both of the boys in. Arthur sat on John’s bed, pushing the pillow away as Charles sat at the desk.

“Peachy,” John lied, closing the door after them.

Their combined scents were overwhelmed with the slightly raw egg smell in the breakfast bag. John’s eyes flashed, rushing to sit in the couch chair as Arthur unbagged the contents.

Charles reached out, handing John a to-go cup of coffee and grabbing his own breakfast from his brother. Arthur handed another box over to John then sat back on the bed with his own.

“What do we have here?” John asked, popping open the lid of the clamshell styrofoam box.

He was greeted with fragrant runny eggs over house fry hash, sided with three links of sausage and a piece of cola cake smushed into pancake. John glanced up to Arthur, who was smirking at him.

“That, my friend, is the Emerald Eggs in a Nest. Karen suggested it, plus she said she threw in your cake. Charles might’ve let it slip that you’re stuck in here.”

Arthur and John spared a glance to Charles, who was stuffing his cheeks with hash browns. He eyed them back with a guilty shrug then returned to his meal.

John returned to his food, unwrapping his fork and stabbing at the egg whites for more yellow to ooze out. He sucked drool back between his teeth while he growled. Tucking his legs under him, John hunched over his breakfast and swiped up the yolk with each piece of potato.

“Don’t you guys have class?” John asked, halfway through his meal.

Arthur scoffed. “It’s one day. Plus, I already missed Epsilon by the time I woke up.”

Charles shook his head, hand going to massage between his brows. “You should’ve gone late. Did anyone see you this morning?”

“Of course not. I was out before anyone woke up.” Arthur turned to John. “Sorry I didn’t let you know. You were sleeping so well, like a little pup.”

John scrunched his face. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious. Could’ve called you Rip Van Winkle. You were purring and everything.” Arthur smirked, returning to his breakfast.

John felt his cheeks flush hot and he turned to look away. “Was not.”

“Yeah. Didn’t take you for a cuddler.”

“Now I know you’re messing with me,” John said with an amused scoff. The blush quickly drained from his cheeks. “I don’t cuddle.”

“Aww, don’t be that way, big spoon.” Arthur reached out to playfully stab John’s arm with his fork.

Charles groaned in disgust. “Arthur, don’t agitate him anymore. Remember where we are.”

“He’s not gonna go feral, Charles. Right John?” Arthur nodded to his roommate.

John agreed quickly, following Arthur’s nod before finishing off his meal. He then pried off the lid of his coffee and drank without tasting.

“Oh, before I forget,” Arthur said, setting his breakfast to the side. He grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and tugged it over his head with one hand.

He held his shirt out to John, waved it for his friend to take. John set down his empty cup and box then did the same with his shirt, instead tossing at Arthur. He snatched his roommate’s shirt away, quickly pulled it over his head and shoved his arms through the holes.

“What is going on?” Charles asked, eyes narrowing at Arthur then John.

“What?” Arthur asked, shrugging on his other shirt.

John, on the last day of his rut, stood before the door staring at the indicator hung on the wall. He pulled free his ID and scanned it then leaned forward for his forehead to be scanned for temperature.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he’d be cool enough to leave. John was tired of lying in bed, tired of pacing the room, tired of waiting for Arthur to show up and entertain him.

John was ready to be done; he felt fine. The scanner emitted a long beep, the door cracking open. He opened his eyes to the screen of the indicator flashing green.

“Thank god,” John said, grabbing the open door and throwing it open. He rushed out before the indicator could reset back to normal.

The light over the door went from red to blinking white. John didn’t bother to wait to see that the room was cleaned, he was already sprinting to the elevator and over clicking the call button.

It wasn’t moving fast enough; John was ready to be outside. He went to the stair exit and booked it down the three flights before he could think about it.

The stair foyer had two exits: one to the lobby and one to the campus. John pushed the glass door open to the outside, bowing his head back with a low groan.

He pressed his hands to his lower back, stretched to hear a low pop in his vertebrae. His last class let out early and John didn’t want to bother crossing campus to catch up with Arthur.

Fresh air was invigorating, cleansing the dying hot coals in his gut. John didn’t want to admit that he was tired, rubbing the side of his neck. He pulled free his phone and went to his recent call list.

Arthur. John’s finger lingered over the green button and with a huff, he pressed it. Holding his phone to his ear, John tried to remember how to get to the library.

“You free?” Arthur answered after the third ring.

John scoffed, starting in the general direction of the main lawn. “Yeah, finally. Felt like forever.”

“You’re telling me. The room felt so weird and quiet. What’re you doing now?”

John stopped on the sidewalk, looked around from the main lawn sidewalk. “Trying to remember how to get to the library. You wanna come with?”

“Sure, bud. Where are you now?”

“Main lawn. By the Pronghorn Center. Where the hell is the library?” John asked himself, turning in a circle.

Arthur chuckled against the receiver, the noise vibrating into John’s ear. He smirked, shrugging his shoulder up to stop the tingle down his back.

“Stay right where you are. I’ll be there in a minute,” Arthur said, shuffling over the phone. His breathing picked up and John looked around the campus circle to see his roommate running down the sidewalk.

“You don’t need to run.” John started, only for him to hang up the phone as Arthur approached him.

“Yeah, I do. All that Horseshoe food. We should see about hitting the gym,” Arthur said, resting his hands on his hips and stretching his back.

John inhaled his roommate’s wafting scent, warmed and fresh from his sprinting. He didn’t feel the same affect as he had in the room. All the more reason that he was wrong in his own mind.

It wasn’t anything more than a friendship; the fact that John had to remind himself of it made him want to beat himself up.

“We can look into it if you don’t wanna go alone.” John shrugged, adjusting the straps on his backpack.

He should’ve dropped it off in the dorm, but he was so ready to be as far away from the Room as possible.

“Course,” Arthur said, throwing his arm over John’s shoulders. “Fun roommate bonding.”

“Don’t you think we’ve bonded enough?” John asked, glancing over to his friend. “We share shirts, we talked about our sex toys.”

Arthur chuckled heartily, leaning to rest his forehead to John’s temple. “You’re funny, Matthews.”

John scrunched his nose at that while they started walking; Arthur led the way to the library and John followed, dragging in his friend’s stride.

“Nobody calls me by my last name.”

“Nobody?” Arthur asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

John narrowed his eyes, searching Arthur’s face as he pulled away. “No, why would they? I got a perfectly good first name.”

“Yeah, but how often do people call you John? Your momma call you John?” Arthur asked, quirking a brow.

“No, my mom calls me sweet things like ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’.” John pointed at Arthur. “You don’t get to call me those, either.”

“Aww, come on, _honey._ ” Arthur joked, leaning in and making a vexing kissy face and noise.

John fully pressed his hand to Arthur’s face, the heel of his palm coming in contact with the omega’s pursed lips. He shrugged a shoulder, working through the new jolt that rushed down his back.

“Okay, okay. So no Matthews, no ‘honey’,” Arthur said, pulling away from John’s hold on his face. He shrugged his arm down and forced it into his pocket. “I can keep calling you ‘bud’.”

“I’d appreciate it.” John swiped his hand on his shirt and stuck it in his pocket.

“So, what’re we going to the library for?” Arthur asked after the two picked up their walk again.

John shrugged. “Just to get out of the dorms. I’ve been stuck inside for a week, man. I couldn’t stand it.”

Arthur nodded along; John glanced over to his friend and grinned.

“Plus, I sprained my dick halfway through, so that wasn’t fun.”

Arthur snorted, bowing his head before guffawing. “How about you owe me a coffee. Your penalty for breaking your own ground rule.”

John laughed. “That’s fine for me.”

They made it to the library, with John throwing the door open for Arthur to walk inside. Instantly, they dampened their conversation, lowering their voices to accommodate the ambience-vacuum of the room.

“How’s Mary?” John asked, walking in the direction of the coffee kiosk just beyond the staircase.

Arthur groaned lowly, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Dude, I don’t want to keep talking about my girlfriend. She’s really itching on my last nerve. Between her and my dad, I can’t catch a break.”

John slowed, standing in the line for the kiosk; he turned around to face Arthur, see the annoyance on his roommate’s face.

“What’s wrong, man?” John asked, pulling free his wallet.

Arthur grumbled, dropping his hand from his face to look fully at John. “She’s nagging me about going back to OLO. I haven’t been all week, I was hanging out with you.”

“Arthur,” John began. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Especially with how they leave you stranded in there.”

John frowned outwardly, but it was ignored by Arthur.

“I don’t think I wanna go anymore. I told her so. And when I tried to talk to my dad about it, he told me that I shouldn’t be bothering with her.”

John stammered to add in to the conversation after Arthur exasperatedly rolling his eyes. He instead clamped his hand onto Arthur’s shoulder, gave him a comforting squeeze.

“Sorry to hear that. I mean, you can try and find something else right? If you’re worried about clubs.” He offered a tender smile. “And just when I was thinking about going to one of their meetings.”

Arthur dipped his head in a scoff, baring his pearly white teeth in a grin. “When I told you it’s for everyone, I lied. It’s an omega club. They just ran the last alpha couple out the night of the party.”

“Oh,” John said with grit teeth and the corner of his mouth tensing in a cringe.

“I wouldn’t want you to go. They’d bully you out of there.” Arthur shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

John pursed his lips in thought, moving in the line closer to the register. He glanced over Arthur’s shoulder to the heavily decorated billboard behind him. “Maybe you can find something new there.”

He nodded in the direction of the multiple colored flyers stacked on top of one another on the billboard.

“You wanna check it out?”

Arthur shrugged. “After coffee though.”

Arthur held his coffee cup in his hand while John held a scone in his mouth. They stood before the billboard, staring blankly at the endless piles of papers posted onto it.

“What about this one?” John asked, reaching for a paper that had a deck of cards as its main image. “Poker club?”

Arthur shook his head. John shrugged, flipping through a few more pages before landing on a yellowed white paper. “Hey, what about this? You sketch, here’s an after-school class for it.”

“A class? You think my sketching sucks?”

“Of course not. I like your art. Just, seems like something you’d be interested in.” John picked the paper from the billboard and scanned over the page.

“It’s free, and look, they meet after classes on Fridays. We could sit in one time.”

John looked over the paper again as Arthur leaned in to read over his shoulder. “That’s on the backside of the library. We should go now.”

“Now?” John furrowed his brows.

Arthur’s hand slithered over his friend’s shoulder, pointed at the time then turned his watch on his wrist. “It starts in fifteen minutes.”

John pulled his scone from his mouth with a deep bite. “We don’t have anything better to do.”

“We should go to the grocery store, too. It’s been less than two weeks and I’ve blown through half my allowance.” Arthur said.

“Fine,” John nudged his face in the direction of Arthur’s arm, only to see his roommate now leaning in.

He stopped himself quickly, short of his nose poking Arthur’s cheek. “So, let’s go now.”

Arthur nodded, stepping away. John folded the flyer and stuffed it into his front pocket. “Lead the way.”

Arthur did just that, turning John in the opposite direction they were facing. The two walked to the back of the library, passing the study area. They ducked behind the couches shoved to the glass divider and descended the stairs to a cream brick exit.

John pushed the exit door open with Arthur quickly following. Arthur turned him left out of the alley and walked him to the double glass doors.

“The Colter Center,” Arthur said as John threw open the door.

“Do you have the map on the back of your eyelids or something?” John asked over his shoulder, opening the second set of glass doors.

Arthur shrugged. “Natural talent of mine. What room is it?”

John pulled free the flyer and gave it another look. “Room 201.”

They stopped just in the main foyer of the building, with Arthur’s eyes slowly climbing the free-formed staircase to the second floor.

“Fancy.”

“Yeah, I think it might be down this way.” John started down the west corridor, not bothering to wait for Arthur to follow. “D’you bring your sketchbook?”

Arthur casually jostled his backpack strap on one shoulder. “Always do.”

While John kept his eyes peeled for the room number plaques, he cleared his throat. “You been sketching a lot?”

“Always. Why, you wanna see ‘em?”

John casually shrugged a shoulder, whipping his head from the left wall to the right, hoping he hadn’t missed the room. “I mean, you have talent. Why not show it?”

“All it’s been is squirrels and birds. Not a lot of wildlife on campus.”

John spared a scoff, stopping in his search. “You kidding me? Alphas are animals.”

“You are, once again, an alpha. Do you forget that?” Arthur asked, his brows casually knitting together.

“Yes, and your constant reminders don’t help,” John joked, returning to his room search.

The pair stopped before an open door; John peered inside, saw a mostly empty room except for a few people. Two girls and what John could only presume the teacher, along with a blond boy sitting off to himself.

“What’re you doing here?” the blond spoke up, causing John to freeze.

Arthur pushed behind his roommate and into the classroom. He walked over to the boy and flicked him in the nose. Stung, the boy scrunched his face as John straightened up and walked in.

“This where the sketching class is?” Arthur asked the boy, resting his forearm on top of his head.

“Yeah, I guess. I was just waiting for Trelawny to ask a question.” The youngling bucked Arthur’s forearm from his head and stood up, grabbing his textbook from the art easel. “Who’s he?”

Arthur glanced back to John. “My roommate, John. John, this is my fuckhead of a brother, Micah.”

“Fuck you too,” Micah spat, his elbow jerking to Arthur’s ribs. He sniffled excessively, his face returning to its pinched nature. “You an alpha?”

John stood away from the pair, raised a brow at Micah but didn’t sniff. Arthur told him all he needed to know. “Yeah. That a problem?”

“You’re small.” Micah turned to Arthur, who was still standing tall despite Micah’s best efforts. “I’m telling Daddy.”

John hid a sudden snort, turning into his shoulder with a smile. Micah glared over at the alpha then back at Arthur.

Arthur barely hid the amusement on his face. “Go on, tell him. It ain’t like he already knows.”

The teacher at his desk stood up after the girls left the room. “Mr. Van Der Linde, you had a question.”

“Yes sir,” Micah said, breaking away from his brother’s stare. Arthur dramatically rolled his eyes in the direction of John, who was still trying to hold back a snicker.

“’Daddy’? Do you call him that too?” John asked, stepping towards his friend and lowering his voice so Micah couldn’t hear.

“’Course not. But Micah’s always been a kiss ass, so I can’t really blame him.” Arthur threw his voice up so his brother could hear the back half.

Micah folded his free arm behind his back and flipped off Arthur. He chuckled. John gave Micah a once over, his tossed comment finally processing.

“Sucks for you, I guess,” John said snidely. “You got a rat telling your every move.”

“He doesn’t know shit,” Arthur said, raising his voice again to get a rise out of his brother. “Not mom’s bastard.”

Micah stepped away from his teacher, made his way to the door with a low hiss. “Fuck you, Arthur.”

“Love you too, bub. See you later.” Arthur waved after his brother then turned to Trelawny. “So, is this where the sketching class is?”

The man back at his desk raised his head with an inquisitive hum. “Oh, yes. Are you two interested in sketching?”

“He is,” John said, grabbing onto Arthur’s bicep. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“I have to say, we are short on numbers. It wouldn’t hurt for you to stay.” The man stood up from his desk, rounded it with a grin. “The admin should be here shortly. Have fun.”

With that, the man shut his laptop and left the room. Arthur took his brother’s once-occupied seat and John sat next to him.

“Let’s see the sketchbook.” John urged, scooting his chair closer to his roommate. “Before anyone shows up.”

“Alright, fine.” Arthur shrugged off his backpack, unzipped it and blindly searched for his sketchbook.

Just as someone walked in, Arthur fished free his leather bound sketchbook. He tossed it into John’s lap as he set his backpack on the back of the chair.

“Hi,” he said meekly to the woman walking to the front of the room.

She took the eraser and swiped through the conglomerate of words until the board was clear.

“Hi, you here for sketchin’?” She asked, her drawl hard to miss.

“Yes, ma’am.” Arthur pushed to his feet and held his hand out. “I’m Arthur. That one there’s John.”

The young woman took grip of Arthur’s hand and shook it once. “Hi Arthur. Hello John.” She waved over to John, who was unraveling Arthur’s sketchbook. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adler.”

John raised a hand in a mediocre wave, bringing a leg up to cross as he opened Arthur’s sketchbook. He was quick with flipping through the full pages; they were just as Arthur told him, squirrels and fat pigeons drawn in different angles, different actions.

He kept flipping, seeing the date in the top corner of each. John smirked when he saw another blob of a cat, sitting on the ledge of the main lawn statue. He expected more faces, at least Mary’s.

John stopped when two pages got stuck together, the day of the party. Even though he wanted to see more, John left it alone and closed the sketchbook again as Arthur came back.

“You know you don’t have to stay,” Arthur said, taking his sketchbook back when John offered it.

“I know. But the last club was a bust, what harm can this one do?” John smirked.

Arthur sat down with a slight exhale. “She said that its mostly female omegas. So don’t be intimidated.” He grinned.

“Me, never,” John said, sitting back in his chair. “And they won’t even know I’m here. Like I said. Moral support.”

“Actually,” Arthur began, turning in his chair to face John. “She did say that they’re missing out on models.”

John glanced over to his friend with a scoff. “You’re funny.”

“I’m serious,” Arthur said, his grin brightening. “You just stand and be your cool self.”

“Why don’t you do it?” John asked coolly.

“Because I wanna draw.” Arthur retorted.

John shook his head. “Still no.”

Arthur’s grin quickly turned to an overdramatic pout. “Come on, bud.”

“You don’t even know if you’re gonna like this class,” John added, turning fully to face Arthur. “Give it two weeks at least.”

“Then you’ll think about it?” Arthur asked.

“No, but it’ll stop that hurt look on your face.” John reached out and playfully pat Arthur’s cheek.


	9. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur go grocery shopping. Mary's none too pleased with how close the boys are getting. 
> 
> John continues to come to terms with his feelings. The boys set up more ground rules. 
> 
> Two weeks pass and then Arthur is off to the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously on "Two Friends, totally roommates":
> 
> Arthur said, “What goes down in the room, stays in the room.”
> 
> Let's see how that goes.

After the sketching class was over, Arthur borrowed Charles's keys to drive to the nearby grocery store. 

"You want anything?" He asked, leaning over the tall counter. 

Charles shook his head, not looking up from his monitor. "I'm good. You saw Micah?”

John leaned against the counter, facing away from Charles; he leaned his head back and frowned.

“Yeah, a real ray of sunshine.”

“Little man, smaller shadow,” Charles said, finally glancing up at the two. “You two having dinner tonight?”

“We might be stopping at the Horseshoe,” Arthur said, “Depends on how we feel, right, bud?”

John nodded, lolling his head side to side. Even though he was happy to be out of the room, he was starting to feel the exhaust from the past week.

“I’m ready to eat now,” John said, “And go to bed.”

Arthur’s hand patted at John’s chest. “Hold on a bit longer. We’ll get you fed and to bed.”

“It’s not even three,” Charles added, pushing away from his desk.

John hid a groan, bending his head forward. Arthur straightened up with a pat to the counter.

“Easy on him, Charles. The man’s been revved up all week.” Arthur grabbed onto John’s backpack strap, tugged him upright. “Let’s hurry and get back. You,” he pointed to his brother. “text me what you want for dinner.”

John was miserable when they walked into the store. Arthur urged him to grab a cart and John obliged with minimal backtalk.

Halfway down the first aisle, John was bent over the cart bar, stifling a yawn. He shut his eyes for a long moment, nicking Arthur in the ankle as he jolted alert.

“Alright, give me the cart,” Arthur snapped. “Get in.”

“What? I’m fine,” John said, waving a hand at his roommate.

“John, get in the damn cart and shut up.” Arthur ordered, grabbing onto the side of the cart.

John stared at Arthur, feeling the challenge in his roommate’s tone. He attempted at a snarl, only to be met with a blank stare back.

“Fine,” he said with a huff.

John hiked a leg over the basket then the other as Arthur folded the kid shelf down. He crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the cart while Arthur pushed down the aisle, stopping to pick up a few Ramen packets.

“What kind do you want?” He asked, turning to John.

He’d leaned his head against the side of the cart, his legs stretching as far as they could to keep his balance in the basket. John was soon asleep without much effort, mouth open and arms tightly folded over his chest.

Arthur shook his head, grabbing a variety pack of Ramen then going to the next aisle. He was slow in the turns, slow down the aisles to make sure that John got enough rest before they left.

Strangers passed by the boys, raising a brow at the sleeping alpha in the shopping cart then politely grinning at the omega pushing him. By the time they got to the end of the store, John yawned and sat up.

“Have a good nap?” Arthur asked, folding his arms to the bar and leaning forward.

John grumbled in response; his shoulder being poked by a jagged piece of metal. “Did that count as a nap?”

Arthur shook his head, pushing the cart down the checkout aisle. John assisted his friend, scooping up armfuls of junk food and setting them on the conveyor belt. Arthur organized the groceries so they weren’t sitting on top of one another then pushed the cart past the cashier.

John climbed free of the basket, grabbed the plastic bags and held onto them as he fished for his wallet. He offered a twenty-dollar bill with Arthur offering the same. They combined and paid, then left the store.

“You hungry?” Arthur asked, pulling free the car keys and popping the trunk.

“Starving,” John said, rounding the back of the car and setting the groceries inside.

“We’re gonna have to say goodbye to Karen while we’re at it.” Arthur opened the driver door, rested his arms over the top of the car.

John played a pout. “I gotta say goodbye to the cola cake too?” He rested his chin on the top of the car as well, forced his bottom lip to quiver.

Arthur shut his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah, man. I think it’s time. Do you know how much sugar is in a slice?”

John stuck his tongue out. “Never thought about it, never do. You think this body comes from thinking?”

Arthur scoffed. “Yeah, your little love handles say so too.”

“Shut up,” John bit playfully. “Let’s go.”

Arthur sat across from John in the booth, mixing the whipped cream into his peach milkshake. John was biting at his straw, blowing bubbles into his dark soda.

“I gotta say, house fries aren’t as appealing as they used to be.” John said casually, reaching for the large plate of house fries.

Arthur smiled softly, relaxing his shoulders. “Potatoes are potatoes.”

“Of course.” John sat up, rolling his shoulders back.

The silence between the two grew, neither of them going for their phones. Instead, Arthur was more invested in the light orange drink before him. Finally, he cleared his throat and moved his milkshake aside.

“Alright, so about these ground rules.” Arthur started.

John tried to hide the sudden interest when Arthur spoke again. Of course, he’d talk again, they couldn’t sit in silence forever.

“What about them?”

“You got yours in. I wanna offer some of my own,” Arthur said, leaning towards his drink and lapping his tongue out to grab his straw.

John kept his eyes stationary, just where Arthur’s were, to not stare at his friend’s tongue wiggling and curling around the plastic. He shook his head.

“Alright, let’s hear ‘em.” John folded his arms on the top of the table. “By the way, how much can we grow as friends with all these rules?”

“Shut up,” Arthur pointed at his roommate, his grin only brightening. “You started it. We can go back if you want.”

John’s eyes flicked to the ceiling, feigning a long thought process. “Just keep your fingers out of my toys and we’ll be fine.”

“So, we’re really not gonna talk about you spraining your dick?”

John brought his hand up and folded it over his face. “Do we have to? I…rubbed myself raw.”

Arthur’s face scrunched with a bout of laughter; it caused John to jolt in surprise while the table wiggled by Arthur’s hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry man, I know it’s not funny.” Arthur waved his hand before him. “I know it didn’t help, it probably made it worse.”

John pouted his lips out to keep from smiling at his friend. “It wasn’t the worst thing. Helped me calm down, I was out of it anyways.”

Arthur’s laughter tapered off, staring at John as he reached for his straw and pushed down the ice cubes in his drink. He huffed to a stop, then straightened up again.

“Right, I’m…uh, sorry to hear about Abigail, again.”

John furrowed his brows, looking up at Arthur until he remembered. He’d been broken up with. The thought of it wasn’t as stinging as he’d hoped; John wanted to be more torn up about Abi just to prove to himself that he was in love with her.

But it wasn’t there. It felt like a dull pang in the back of his throat, not his heart. John shrugged and continued pushing his ice cubes around.

“It’s alright. I figured it’d happen. She was pushing me too much to come here, I was preparing myself.”

Arthur nodded solemnly, now mimicking John’s motion of pushing about his straw. John shook his head.

“Sorry, we got off track. What were the ground rules you wanted?” John dropped his hand from his straw.

“Oh,” Arthur said, straightening up. “It’s nothing man.”

They were silent for another beat until Arthur spoke up again. “No more ground rules, okay? We’re gonna be spending a semester together. It’s hard to hide all of us from each other.”

John smiled softly. “I gotta tell you now, I can be a bit stubborn. I’m messy and I tend to sleep through my alarms.”

Arthur smirked. “Noted and seen already. I snore.”

“Heard already.” John’s smile broadened. “What else? You gotta have something else wrong with you?”

“No, that’s it,” Arthur lied, smiling fully. “I can be a tad bit stubborn myself, but other than that.”

John scoffed. “Duly noted. Alright. What about room rules? Do we need those? Like a sock on the door or something?”

Arthur shook his head, straightening up as Karen approached with their late lunch, or early dinner.

“We can work that out. I’d assume it’d be out of our system after the room but sure.”

Karen set down their plates, along with two slices of dark cake topped with whipped cream. “Hate to see you go, boys. You’re gonna miss our fall specials.”

John huffed in amusement, turning his grin to Karen. “Gonna miss good tasting food. But this one,” he pointed over to Arthur. “says we’re eating too much.”

“Bullshit, you agreed,” Arthur spoke up with chuckle to follow.

“And now he’s saying I can’t have cola cake either!” John ignored his roommate as he reached across the table playfully tap at his cheek.

Karen giggled at the two boys, shook her head. “Enjoy your meal boys.”

When she left, John teasingly snapped his teeth after Arthur’s fingers. Arthur reached forward and flicked the tip of John’s nose.

“You wanna take this outside?” John asked, sitting up further and playfully riling his shoulders.

“You think you can take me down?” Arthur quirked a brow, giving John a glance over.

John’s smile split, showing his teeth while he sniffed in the air. “After dinner, I know I can.”

Arthur scoffed. “Not even worth it.”

John grabbed his patty melt, brought it to his mouth. He glanced over to Arthur, seeing him struggle to take the first bite of his sandwich.

He bit into his melt, savored the taste. “We gotta come back for homecoming, okay?”

“Deal,” Arthur said, picking up and biting into his burger.

John and Arthur carried their groceries to the common room on the second floor. They unlocked a cabinet with Arthur’s card, it opening to two empty shelves.

Arthur handed over the dry goods, letting John organize them on the two shelves.

“We didn’t get any vegetables,” Arthur said after emptying the last bag.

John smiled at the shelves then turned to his roommate. “I should’ve told you; I haven’t eaten broccoli in six months.”

“You’re a heathen.”

They closed the cabinet, waited for it to lock before grabbing their plastic and going up to their room. John fished into his backpack pocket and retrieved his key, looking down the hallway to see Mary standing by the door.

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her brown hair a mess of fly-aways and unkempt strands from a bun. With a glance to his roommate, John saw Arthur visibly deflate.

Arthur exhaled, his shoulders dropping along with his smile. John stopped in his tracks, let Arthur continue towards the room.

“I’ll be downstairs, let you two have the room,” John said lowly.

Arthur didn’t respond, only continued on to unlock their room. Mary huffed and pushed her way in, with Arthur following after her.

John bundled the plastic bags in his hands and went back to the elevator, hoping to find a recycling bin.

John was woken up on the lobby chair by a poking in his shoulder. He jerked, his laptop sliding down his lap. He scrambled to pick it up, then looked up to see Arthur.

His hair was disheveled and his scent was wildly prominent. John held his breath, staring further at his roommate with a few stealing glances over.

“What the hell happened?” John asked, straightening up. “You’re bleeding.”

He said it, but it took a second to register. From Arthur’s jaw and down to his neck was rivulet of blood. John pushed to his feet and reached for his friend’s neck, heard him wince in response.

But he was concerned with the starting point of the blood. Three half-inch scratches just behind his ear. John curled his opposite hand around the back of Arthur’s neck, inspected the wincing he’d earned from grabbing.

Just along the meet of Arthur’s neck and shoulder were bites, more so nibbles, and light purple bruises to each. That’s what made Arthur smell so fragrant; his scent gland was milked.

John dropped his hands from his friends, an odd twang striking him in the chest. He cleared his throat. Did they fight? Did they…?

“Are you okay?” He asked, straining back his concern.

Arthur reached for his bleeding scratches with a low hum. “More or less.”

John muscled through the twang now striking down to his belly, making a knot of his stomach. He pressed a tight smirk on his lips, took a soft breath in.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s just upset that I haven’t spent any time with her.” Arthur walked and sat down on the couch.

John swallowed the thickening lump in his throat, ignored the cloying remnant of Arthur’s scent in his mouth. He forced out an airy laugh and sat back down. “She scared I’m gonna steal you?”

Arthur smiled softly, scoffed and slouched. “Exactly that. She kept telling me I reek of you and I’m spending too much time with you.” He rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, then his head in his hand. “I had to tell her I’m out of OLO, that I’m gonna try those sketching classes.

“Guess that’s when the first bite came in.” Arthur recounted with a deep exhale. His eyes fluttered shut as he yawned; John’s top lip twitched, ready to snarl at the thought of Mary’s teeth puncturing Arthur’s skin.

Instead, he mimicked Arthur’s movement, directly tucking his mouth behind his palm. He could snarl safely then, reveal his growing canines without giving off the wrong impression.

“The rest was a lot; I’ll spare you the nasty details.” Arthur hummed. “We fought though. For the most part.”

John’s assumptions were correct; he wasn’t feeling anything about it, he told himself. The twang in his chest was just the protective nature he had now. Never before had he felt a need to stand up for anyone, not even his mother.

Not that Arthur needed it. He wasn’t in any bad shape; Arthur looked like he enjoyed the spat turned love-bite session. John didn’t need to intervene.

Still the twang never sated, only sat in the same pit the livening coals were. John brought his hand up to fold over his brow, massage through the tension there.

“You alright, bud?” Arthur asked.

John jolted again, dropping his hand from his face. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m ready to go to sleep in my bed.”

“You wanna watch something?”

John stared into Arthur’s eyes, something he’d been avoiding, and searched through the lake blue depths. His eyes fluttered lazily, his eyelashes fluttering.

John stiffened. “No, I should be heading to bed. Maybe we can watch something tomorrow morning.” He pushed out of his seat again and gathered his things.

“Alright.” Arthur followed his friend upstairs to the room.

The silence was eager to seep in, this time enveloping John with a layer of uncomfortable film.

“Where’s my red shirt?” John asked on the following Monday.

He’d stepped out of the shower, gotten ready despite losing the shirt he’d set out. Throwing the bathroom door open, John looked over at Arthur, who was sitting on his bed with his earbuds in.

He retraced his steps, scanned the floor and grumbled under his breath. “Arthur.”

John looked at his roommate again, unmoving from his place. He’d taken notice of Arthur’s bed now piling with clothes into a lip at the open side. He reached for the meet of Arthur’s earbuds and yanked them out.

Arthur winced, snapping his head up from his phone.

“Dude, have you seen my red shirt?” He asked, turning back to his bed. “I thought I took it into the bathroom with me.”

“I took it,” he said casually, reaching for his nearest bud and wiggling it into his ear again.

“What, why?” John asked, whipping around to face his roommate again.

Arthur looked up from his phone again as he reached for his other bud. “It smelled good. You can borrow my red shirt if you want.”

“I don’t smell goo—” John began, only to stare into Arthur’s eyes. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Give me your shirt.”

Arthur reached along the trench of clothes before him, tugged at a sleeve buried under a mess of dirty laundry. John assisted, refraining from touching anything else in Arthur’s nest.

He pulled free the red long sleeve and tossed it over to his bed. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll see you for Epsilon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, of course,” John said, walking over to his dresser and grabbing an undershirt.

He raised his brows at the emptiness of the polished wood drawer then glared over his shoulder to Arthur.

“They weren’t clean, I’ve seen you re wear them,” Arthur tried but was met with a stern look.

“At least one, Arthur, come on.” John’s hand went out, waiting for his roommate to toss him an undershirt.

A fabric landed in John’s palm, a white t-shirt. His stare narrowed at Arthur, waiting for the omega to acknowledge the scrutiny.

“Did I act picky with you?” Arthur asked. “No, I let you have a damn shirt. Take the shirt.”

John tried to stay stern though a smile was beginning to twitch onto his lips. He released a scoffing growl, hid his face from Arthur and got dressed.

The tension rose in their room the more the week carried on. Arthur began to clam up, his nest growing more with most of his own clothes along with a couple of John’s sprinkled in.

Arthur urged Mary to stay away; since their last interaction, Arthur was sure she’d make a huge deal about going to the room. He’d already planned to go on the Thursday before his heat kicked in, while John was in class.

John knew about it and he wasn’t worried. Arthur was no different pre-heat than the rest of the time. He was just a little more reserved.

That Thursday came quickly and John was attacked with the overly sweet scent of his roommate. He tiredly folded a hand over his mouth, pinched at his nose before he forced himself to sit up.

Arthur was already up, stuffing as many nest clothes into his backpack as possible. He was quiet, his hair flipping and swishing with each quick movement he made.

“Let me help,” John urged, grabbing his backpack and emptying it onto his bed before standing up.

He shoved more clothes into his backpack until Arthur’s bed was scant; Arthur nodded with a grunt then went for the front door. John followed him out, down the hallway just as dread started to sink in.

It wasn’t long that he was just condemned, and now he was seeing that Arthur went through the same. Except John didn’t know how often he’d be visiting.

He still felt a discomfort within him from smelling the stranger’s heat, how enrapturing it was to Abigail. John would have to have Charles with him at all times.

At least he wasn’t affected by the scent like John would be. He’d have to plug his nose, line his throat with honey, eat before and bundle his scent gland whenever he tried to visit Arthur.

He thought of all of this while Arthur retrieved his ID card and swiped it before the door. John couldn’t believe himself; Arthur didn’t say that he’d had to go through any extensive measures to visit.

In fact, the boy slept peacefully next to him without a hint of remorse. John could at least pretend it wasn’t going to pain him to sit in an enclosed space with his roommate for the week.

John also wasn’t aggressive. Arthur wouldn’t be either.

In the room, Arthur nodded for John to put the clothes on the bed while Arthur unzipped his backpack and dug in to pull free his laptop and phone.

John unzipped his backpack, clawed out the mess of clothes onto the white bedspread until the bag was empty. Arthur set up his belongings on the desk, the last to be placed was a long white box marked with an ‘o’.

John pulled his eyes from the box, shaking the thought of it from him. It wasn’t his place to think of it.

“You got everything?” John asked, looking around the room.

It was mostly the same as his, though the bed was against the side wall and the couch was flipped to the opposite. The shower stall was a translucent glass instead of transparent and the sink had older, separated spin faucet features.

“No,” Arthur said, his voice a gravelly tone. “Thank you.”

“Are you gonna be hungry?” John asked, his hand going up to look at his watch but realizing it was still on his desk.

“No,” Arthur repeated, now shaking free the rest of his backpack on his bed.

John knew it was his opportune time to leave, but Arthur had set him up so well before; he didn’t want to leave him hanging.

He stopped at the door, shrugging off his backpack again. John grabbed the back of his shirt from the neck and pulled it off. With a turnaround, John was ready to toss it at the back of his friend’s head only to be met with a heavy hand clamped around his wrist.

Arthur forced John’s hand over his shoulder, his breathing heavy and steady. John looked from Arthur’s hold on him to Arthur himself, mouth agape and tongue ready to spill from his mouth in a pant.

“Alright, bud, I gotta go,” John tried coolly, flapping his wrist in Arthur’s hold.

His other hand went for the door handle jutting into the small of his back; Arthur’s other hand pressed on the door just beyond John’s hip, effectively trapping him.

John hid a gulp, holding his breath while he tried to keep his eyes from staring at Arthur. His heart began to rush with adrenaline, his skin gaining heat.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head while he kept his breath in; John’s lungs were strong, but not enough to fight off his roommate and stay sane.

“Arthur,” he tried again, this time his friend’s head ducking to the side of his neck.

“Alpha,” Arthur growled openly against John’s skin, his tongue flattening and dragging over his scent gland.

John flinched, attempted to wiggle away from the electrifying feeling now coursing through him. He reminded himself to be sane as he pressed his knees together, trying to think of disgusting thoughts.

“Arthur,” John said, his tone betraying his panic.

Arthur was content in John’s scent gland, his teeth now dragging along the sensitive patch of skin. John was wriggling fully now, knees buckling while he tried to fight off what was feeling so tempting.

“Arthur!” he barked finally, causing his roommate peel himself from John’s skin. “That’s enough.”

Arthur stared at John’s face, not recognizing the flush of his roommate’s cheeks. John saw that Arthur’s pupils were blown to full black, absorbing all light that went into his eyes.

He remembered his other hand fully folded behind him, made distance between him and Arthur.

“I have to leave,” John said. What he didn’t mention was that he’d have to before Arthur did something he regretted. “Here.”

With his free hand, John reached for his shirt and pushed it into Arthur’s chest hoping that the offering would let him go.

Arthur glanced down at the fabric pressed to him, released his caging hand from John’s side to cradle it. John exhaled, knowing that it’d be another full minute before he’d be breathing clean, untampered air.

“Alpha,” Arthur repeated again, bringing John’s shirt up to sniff it before closing the distance between them again.

“No, Arthur.” John was stern, turning his face to the side and shadowing his scent gland. “I have to leave.”

Arthur trailed his nose up the opposite side of John’s neck, all the way to his cheek. He nudged him once, twice, but John stayed frozen as he tried to jerk his hand out.

His eyelids fluttered, his lungs feeling like they were withering inside of him. John fought back the urge to breathe, knowing he’d rather pass out than inhale Arthur’s scent.

The air ran thick quickly, growing with every passing second of Arthur getting his fill of John. He turned, shrugging his head back further to the door as Arthur was leaned in; his nose hovering before John’s stagnant lips.

Arthur’s hand retracted from John’s wrist, instead grabbing his waist and pulling him closer. Arthur’s chest heaved, bringing his lips up to meet John’s.

“John,” he whispered before pressing his lips to his friend’s.

John’s mind instantly reeled, pulled forward with the recognition of his name from Arthur’s lips. His lips tingled and his body relaxed, finally breaking to inhale sharply through his nose.

His eyes rolled back, catching onto the heady scent now in the air. No, he wasn’t meant to be here and he now had the opportunity to leave.

John was going to beat himself up when he left the room. His now free hands froze before Arthur’s shoulders while he reveled in the sudden prod of Arthur’s tongue between his lips.

No, he wasn’t meant to be here. John forced his hands to Arthur’s shoulders, jarred their mouths apart.

He couldn’t speak, only stared at Arthur’s flushed red face and wet lips. John bit at his tongue, wanting to say something but grabbed the door handle and scurried out of the room.

He shut it tight behind him, holding the door handle as Arthur jostled it from the other side. John panted in clean air, his body harshly crashing from the ramping up it’d experienced.

His jaw clenched tight while he stood by, holding the door closed while Arthur fought it from the other side.

“John, please,” his friend mewled from beyond the door. “John…”

Arthur dragged out John’s name, making the coals in his gut sizzle to life. He shook his head once; the twang in his chest reared and panged.

John growled at himself, trying to rid the tingling on his lips. No, he wasn’t meant to be here. He was too confident in himself and now he was here.

He waited out Arthur’s jostling of the door for an hour until he was sure that his roommate was done. John missed his class and now didn’t know what to do.

He very well couldn’t go back to sleep now; his body was now adrenalized enough to run around the campus. He’d have to call Charles, but his phone was back in the room and he still didn’t trust that Arthur would remain voluntary.

It was a slip-up, John knew. It was omega nature that caused Arthur to kiss him and nothing more. He was only to blame for staying when he did.

John folded his free hand to his face; he felt like he’d taken advantage. Not that it was his purpose.

John tried extending Arthur’s courtesy back, assumed that Arthur was more in control than he led on.

He felt disgusting.


	10. I Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes an unexpected phone call and spend a week in another form of solitary confinement. 
> 
> John makes an effort to visit Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mild gaslighting. 
> 
> Just mild. But it's still there.
> 
> Also, trying to flesh out more of John having anxiety rather than being some cocky fully assured guy all the time.

John wasn't sure if it was truly disgust he felt, or disgust at the fact that he enjoyed it. The first was no longer true, the more he sat by in silence. He wasn't disgusted by Arthur being in close proximity of him; he was disgusted that he didn't fight more, only let the omega go on. 

If John hadn't submitted, if he'd fought harder, he was sure that he'd go too far. 

He felt his head swimming the more he thought about it, just like it did in general. Ever since Abigail brought it up, it was all John could think about. He was an alpha loving alpha, wasn't he?

John let go of the door handle and sat by, knees brought up to rest his arms on top. Arthur was silent from the other side of the door, also not giving any way to the door handle.

He couldn’t get up now, the more it began to sink in. John’s lips still tingled, his mouth feeling comfortably caressed by Arthur’s tongue.

He groaned, half in delight and half discouraged, because it couldn’t be enjoyed. Even if he wanted to do it again, John wouldn’t.

It was the heat lurching after the first close alpha and as soon as Arthur was back to normal, he’d shrug it off and go back to Mary. John shook his head; he wasn’t going to bring up Mary now.

John forced himself up, backing away from his roommate’s door with light footsteps. He didn’t want to make any sudden movements, make Arthur further on edge. When he was far enough, John turned and doubled back to his room and grabbed his phone.

Already he was making a list of people to call; well, two people to call for sure. Mindlessly, John speed-dialed the first phone number he thought of. His best friend as always.

“Hello?” Abigail answered groggily over the phone.

“Hey, Abs,” John said, his heart lunging into his throat as soon as he heard her. They hadn’t talked in two weeks and John remembered that part of his nights was missing, now filled with watching shogun movies with Arthur. “Can I talk to you?”

Abigail hummed tiredly, shifting over the receiver before clearing her throat. “What’s wrong John?”

As soon as she’d asked, John knew he couldn’t come out with it. He kissed Arthur. Arthur kissed him, that was a fact either way it was spun. He’d have to bring up the context, explain the coal feeling in his gut that was dashed with sprinkles of cool by being around Arthur.

“You loved me, right?” He asked nervously, his thumbnail lining in his teeth while his leg jostled on his bed frame.

“What kind of question is that? I’m going back to sleep,” Abigail said, her tone snapping and exhausted.

“No, wait!” John interjected, flicking his hand from his mouth before running his hand through his hair. “If…if I tell you this, do you promise not to be…’in your face’ about it?”

Abigail was silent and John pulled his phone away to make sure she hadn’t hung up. He pressed his phone back to his ear, heard her comforter shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“You slept with Arthur, didn’t you?” she asked coolly.

John’s eyes went wide as he fervently shook his head. No, he’d never thought about that. It never crossed his mind but once, when he came back from the bonfire.

“No, no, uh…worse.” John began, unsure where to actually explain. The very beginning of the morning would work. “Arthur started his heat and I helped him to the room, and well…we’ve been scenting each other’s clothes for the time in the room and I gave him my shirt.”

He waited for Abigail to say something and when she didn’t, he continued.

“I was about to leave and he blocked me to the door, calling me ‘alpha’. He…he licked my scent gland and I froze. He only kissed me when he called me by my name.”

When he was done, John folded over his lap, stared at the speckle-décor tiles. He heard Abigail shift again, exhaling deeply.

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” John asked, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I took advantage of him. He’s not in his right mind, I know it.”

At that, Abigail broke into laughter. The sound alone jolted John upright as he furrowed his brows at the far wall.

“What’s so funny?” John asked, frowning at Abi’s incessant tittering over the receiver and into his ear.

“John,” Abigail began. She hummed after a lull of her laughter, sitting up against her headboard with a creak. “You’re what’s funny. I…he likes you, John. And like I said before, you like him too.”

“We’re meant to like each other, Abs,” John said, pushing to stand in the middle of his dorm. He went to his dresser and grabbed a new shirt, a long-sleeve. “We’re roommates.”

“You know that ain’t it and that’s why you keep bringing it up.” Abigail was quiet for a long moment, with another deep sigh to follow. “You don’t have to lie to me. We ain’t dating anymore.”

John shrugged on his shirt then turned in the direction of his phone cradled on his shoulder. “Abigail.”

“If you’re not ready, it’s fine. But I don’t think you need to fake with me, John. I mean, who else you gonna talk to? Lenny? Charles?”

John smirked, thinking about the limit of his options. Abigail was always at the top, just before Charles, Sean and Lenny.

“Can you at least explain what that all meant? The name-calling, the grooming?” John was lost on the art of omegas, and he surely wasn’t going to search through his Epsilon textbook now.

He could feel Abigail’s dull stare through the phone; she adjusted the receiver with another shift, flopping onto her stomach on her bed.

“He’s in heat, right? You’re an alpha. What else is there to say? You smell good to him, I bet your scent got him all kinds of ramped up.” Abigail slurped back the sudden drool pooling her mouth. “What’s he smell like, all hot and bothered?”

John felt the pang in his chest again, attacked by the gaining interest of Arthur’s heat. “Bye, Abi.”

“You never like to share.” Abigail hissed before saying goodbye.

John tossed his phone to his bed then rested his elbows on his dresser. He held his head in his hands, groaned to himself. That phone call didn’t help anything.

He straightened up, grabbed his phone and wallet along with his room keys. John searched through his contact list to find Charles.

“Hey, you know your brother’s in the heat room, right?” John asked, stopping at the elevator.

“Yeah, I remember him telling me about it. You gonna be okay?”

John’s brows furrowed once again, tighter, in confusion while his eyes stared blankly at the silver door before him. “Y-yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you only know Arthur here. And me, but Arthur’s in all your classes.”

John exhaled in relief. Of course that way why. He needed to chill out. “Right. I mean, I’m sure I can find new friends. Like, what about your other brother? The little one?”

“Micah,” Charles stated blandly. “You think you could be friends with Micah?”

As soon as John heard the name, he was rushed with the memory of Micah being a brat to Arthur. He rolled his eyes, brows unfurling. “You’re right, I can’t.”

He was silent for a moment then spoke up again. “Hey, do you have any measures for alphas to keep them from smelling heat?”

Charles clacked away at his keyboard as the elevator opened before John. “Not a fully effective thing. Why, you wanted to visit?”

That was all John was planning on as soon as he was free of the room. Maybe with more layers though. He’d bring Arthur some breakfast the same way, sit with him for a bit, maybe watch a movie.

It wasn’t like he’d be able to focus in class like this. John was only invested in how Arthur was feeling today, hopefully he’d be clear headed enough to talk about what happened between them.

John stood before Arthur’s room door, bag full of their food and backpack hanging from one shoulder. His other hand was occupied with a cardboard two-drink holder, both filled with coffee. He managed to knock two knuckles to the door, straightening up as he heard a shuffle on the other side of it.

“Arthur,” he said nasally. “I got you some breakfast. I know you’re probably not hungry but I’m here to share some Cattleman’s Breakfast with you. As a treat.”

John waited, hoping that he was heard through the door. A lump began to form in his throat the more he waited. Was Arthur already shutting him out for what happened earlier?

Another shuffle behind the door made John step forward in anticipation. The door creaked open slowly, with Arthur poking his head through the crack.

“Hey,” John said with a smile, jostling the bag of food in his arm. “Let me in?”

Arthur eyed John, gave him a few glances over before snapping his eyes to meet his friend’s. He grinned at the sight of a swimmer’s nose plug over the bridge of John’s nose.

“Do I smell?” Arthur asked menially, cracking the door open a bit more for John to duck under his arm.

John shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you if I tried. This thing really works.” He set the food down at the desk, the drinks as well.

He sat down in the couch chair as Arthur shut the door. John tried to not keep his eyes on his friend too long, uncovering their breakfasts from the brown paper bag one at a time.

“You are hungry right?” John asked while staring into the bag.

Arthur groaned, climbing back into his bed and crossing his legs. “Not really. You caught me an hour too early.”

“It’s a shame they don’t have a microwave in here,” John said, returning Arthur’s food to the bag and rolling it closed. “You can always save it for later.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said, grabbing onto pillow and curling his arms around it.

He shifted onto his stomach, stretching his legs out behind him as he tilted his head towards John. John searched Arthur’s face, wanting to find a sliver of acknowledgement of what happened between them.

“Hey, about earlier,” John began.

Arthur’s face was vacant for a moment, a pink flushing his cheeks before his flustered and knitted his brows. “What happened earlier?”

John opened his mouth, shut it again and narrowed his eyes at his roommate. He scoffed, smirked.

“We…we kissed, Arthur. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I feel like it was wrong of me to—”

“We didn’t kiss, man. What’re you talking about?” Arthur’s brows were pinched together now, his face a muster of feigned confusion.

John stared into his roommate’s face; this was the exact same boy, wasn’t he? Heat didn’t act like an amnesiac, right?

“Arthur…”

“Bud, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you dream about us kissing?” Arthur asked, his mouth turning into a wry smile. “Was I good at it? Were we steamy?”

John’s face twitched in an instance of his own confusion. What kind of mind game was this? It happened; John knew it did. He’d been rubbing his lips together since it had, hoping to catch the remnants of Arthur’s taste.

But by Arthur’s disregard, it was better to be forgotten. John didn’t know what he was meant to go off of. He didn’t know what to expect, whether they talked about it and let it fizzle or if there was something to be discussed on.

This was not what he thought of. John stammered to speak, dropping his head back to his food. Had he imagined it? No, it was right there at the forefront. He could feel Arthur’s breath even now as his roommate was denying him.

His teeth grit, forcefully tearing open his plastic silverware. John grabbed his fork and stabbed into his food, smashing the potatoes into further mush before finally shoveling in a bite.

He couldn’t taste it, the building saliva in his mouth along with the lack of smell making the breakfast nothing.

“You’re so full of shit,” he whispered, his leg anxiously bouncing while he ate. John knew what was true, and maybe it was an amnesiac but he wasn’t crazy.

John continued to visit Arthur into the next week, bringing some homemade meals instead of the Horseshoe they’d both sworn off of. He didn’t stay for long; Arthur’s waves were much less predictable than that of a dominant omega.

John could barely stomach when Mary visited with him; it felt like he had a babysitter. Every sudden movement he made put Mary on edge, her shifting closer to Arthur while he tried to nap.

It was frustrating to say the least. At night, John felt worse than when it was his time in the room staring across the room to his friend’s empty bed.

He snarled at the darkness, listening to his sleep playlist but not getting anymore tired. John almost wanted to call Arthur and see if he wanted to watch a movie, but deep down, he was still holding a grudge against him.

That put John more on edge than anything. He went to bed with his stomach in knots and woke up feeling sick. He knew why Arthur was lying, John fully understood. He wanted to lie about it too, but the trickle over the coals would never let him.

If Arthur was so quick to forget about it, John knew that he didn’t feel the same. It was the heat, the proximity of an easy fix for the omega nature. Abigail was wrong yet again.

John would just have to get over it. He could do that. It wasn’t like they would’ve ever been anything anyways. They were friends. Roommates.

He sat in bed for fifteen minutes, head in hands while he willed his stomach to settle. John moved too fast getting up, expecting Arthur to be back in the room.

Now he was regretting it, the acid in his gut sloshing its way up his throat. The sun beamed in through the window, over John’s head and onto the bed. Still, he didn’t move even with the metaphorical urging from the sun’s beams.

Class was suddenly the last thing on his mind; John brought the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbed circularly. When he felt alright enough, he reached for his phone from its charger and checked his notifications.

Nothing. He’d texted Arthur the night before and received nothing back. John shook his head and forced his phone face down onto his bed. No, he wasn’t going to worry like that.

Arthur was in the room. They were friends. There was no need to check up on him like that. John chastised himself for even having to remind himself. Of course, they were. Nothing else.

If anything, now John would have to recite that Abigail was wrong. As she always was. He could laugh at that, feel better by reminding himself.

He’d even text it to Abigail today, just to get her riled before she went on shift.

John climbed out of bed and got dressed, packed up his laptop and went to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

When Arthur was out of the room the following Friday morning, everything went back to normal. John left his final class of the day, not expecting to see Arthur until later.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, once then twice before he recognized it as a call. John pulled his phone free, answered with cradling it between his ear and shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, not needing to think twice about who it was.

Arthur listlessly groaned over the phone, shifting in his bed. “Yeah.”

Silence.

John breathed deeply, walking past the Pronghorn Center in the direction of their dorm. “You gonna try to go to sketch class?”

“No, not today. I was actually thinking…”

“That’s dangerous,” John joked, smiling over the receiver.

He received a slightly amused huff in his ear; Arthur shifted again, this time sitting up on the edge of his bed. “I was thinking about going to an OLO meeting.”

John patted his pocket for his ID card as he approached the side door of the dorm. “It’s Friday.”

“I know, but Mary told me they’re having another mixer. Maybe more like a luncheon.”

“I’m starting to think this club’s just an excuse to meet for food.”

At that, Arthur chuckled. Something that John hadn’t thought of missing in the span of a week. His mouth curled in a grin anyways.

“It might be. But it’s free and Mary asked. I think I’m gonna go.”

John swiped his card before the reader at the glass side door then threw it open and walked inside. Was he really about to…?

“Do you mind if I tag along?” John asked, opening the second glass door to the dorm lobby.

“You wanna go? Are you sure?” Arthur was stamping his feet into his shoes now, a steady tap on the clacking tile.

John shook his head; no, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to hang out with Arthur a bit, maybe get some free food. Anything but staying in the room, just like he hoped Arthur felt too.

“Sure, why not? Free food.” John added casually, going to the elevator and pressing the button.

“Alright, well. Where are you now?” Arthur asked.

“About to head upstairs. Do you want to just meet me down here?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in a minute.”

Arthur was right; the ALA/OLO was not welcome to alphas. John assumed that if the name was only OLO, they wouldn’t be able to meet because it was too exclusionary to an entire student body.

It was evident the club was not open to alphas as soon as John followed Arthur inside and down the stairs to the room. The hallway wasn’t masked in the slightest, it was warded with a sort of alpha repellant. It was a mixture that John couldn’t quite place but it had the sting of a skunk smell and twisted earthiness of rotting flesh.

That alone made John want to gag; if any other alpha made it past that was obviously nose-blind. He stopped to get a measure of the smell on Arthur’s face, unfazed and moving quickly to the room itself.

The room itself…that was a warding wagon. There were omegas standing in pairs around a single table of finger foods and a bowl of punch. They were carefree, laughing and idly chatting until John stepped to the threshold.

It was as if he triggered a silent alarm; eyes turned to him and narrowed, subtly questioning if he was in the wrong place. Yes, he was, but for the sake of friends, he was managing.

John took a step inside the room, the air quickly thickening to fog. The aroma turned on its head, going from a light and spring bouquet to a heavy blanket of fear and sweat.

He tried to hide his grimace, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes struggled to stay wide against the stinging smell now punctuating the air.

“Arthur!” Mary exclaimed, cutting from her conversation to rush past John to her boyfriend.

John felt whipped by the cold air that followed Mary; he turned and saw her leap into his arms, curling her own around his neck and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

The twang returned again, this time furthering itself with severity. It felt like a stab. Still, John grit his teeth and buckled down, passing the other omegas to sit down at the circle of chairs.

“Hey,” Arthur began, folding his arms around his girlfriend and leaning into her hold. “Sorry, I should’ve told you I was comin’.”

“It’s okay,” Mary said with a grin. She turned over her shoulder to glare at John now sitting in the circle. “Wish you’d told me you were bringing _him_.”

Arthur hid a groan, his face dropping. “Don’t you start that. John is harmless. I wish you’d leave him alone.”

John sat by, watching the two converse closely. He crossed his arms, slouching in his chair, and felt the full regret of coming set in. All he was doing was punishing himself. John was good at that, giving himself a mental lashing when he thought so ahead of himself.

It didn’t always blow up on him like this, and why did he care? John didn’t have any particular feeling towards Arthur except he liked having him around.

Abigail was so wrong, as she always was. John reminded himself again, cutting his eyes from Arthur and Mary to look around the rest of the room.

None of it was interesting, a spare classroom that was only used for meeting purposes. The regret began to set in further, his leg beginning to bounce once again. This was an absolute mistake.

“Alright everyone, why don’t we take a seat and talk a bit?” One of the omegas spoke up over the lulling chatter.

John slowly straightened up as the omegas began to approach. He uncrossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his chair and scooted back from the circle to distance himself. It was more of his comfort than theirs.

The chairs filled around the circle, leaving the two chairs across from John open for Arthur and Mary. He rolled his eyes because that was how his luck tended to work. When they sat, Mary grabbed onto Arthur’s hand, curled her fingers between his and set it in her lap.

John glanced at it, scoffed then looked up at Mary. Her face was smug, her jaw jutting up and out as a smile spread across her face.

He rolled his eyes away from her, knowing her actions to be ridiculous. He locked eyes with Arthur, who flashed a tender grin before turning in the direction of the speaker.

John shifted in his seat and returned his roommate’s grin, folding his hands in his lap and unconsciously mimicking the same thumb rubbing motion Arthur did on Mary’s hand.


	11. We've Been Over This Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month of August ends. Now it's Rangers Week, New Haven's homecoming that invites families to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why we going so F@*#ing fast? Because if I keep writing at this speed, i will explode internally.

SEPTEMBER

"I don't think you'll want to meet my father," Arthur said, walking with John down the sidewalk. 

It'd been two weeks since the OLO Luncheon and now all Arthur could talk about was Ranger Week. John was patient and listened, nodded through his roommate's cycle of excitement and dread. He'd called his parents, told them about the specific Family Day and his mother was more than ready to see him. 

John's parents were the same and his brothers were practically jumping at the thought of seeing college-age girls.

Arthur's father was the opposite; he'd told John that his father, the history professor, wasn't happy to take a day off from work to visit. However, Arthur's mother was ready to see him. 

"Did you tell him about me?" John asked, taking a sip of his coffee. They both stopped, took a seat at a bench. 

"Not entirely." Arthur started. He jerked to the side, bringing up his knee as his arm draped over the back of the bench. His free hand waved in defense. "He knows about you, the alpha roommate, but he's not one to sit and listen about friends." 

"Oh," John added, bringing his coffee to his lips again with a smirk. "I told my mom about you."

From his peripheral, he noticed Arthur's smile. "You did?"

"Of course. My only friend here aside from Charles." 

Arthur's smile never faltered, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a long gulp. He shifted his cup to his arm behind John, his free hand resting on John's thigh. "Oh, did you see that ODL is having a Halloween party?"

John raised his brows, eyes fighting to not look down at his friend's hand tapping on his thigh. He shook his head, leaned back casually. "When?"

"The second Saturday of October." Arthur glanced over his shoulder to look for a trash can, tossed his empty cup then turned back. "You wanna go? We could dress up."

"Is this an excuse to see me in a costume?" John turned in Arthur's direction, folding his arm over the back of the bench. 

"I was thinking, you've seen the Avengers, right?" 

John nodded. 

"You and me," Arthur poked John in the chest then himself. "Thor and Loki. What do you think?"

"Don't they hate each other?"

Arthur laughed lowly. "No, they're complicated brothers."

"Speaking of brothers, why not ask Charles?"

"He said he wanted to be Heimdall or nothing." 

John's face fell the more he stared at Arthur, his hair flopping on his forehead. His eyes sparkled with the sunlight and John searched them for the answer of an itching question. The answer was there, it was always there. 

"What about Mary?" 

"My Jane Foster. Who else would she be?" 

John forced a smile on his lips, a tight and twisted feature. "I dunno, man."

"Come on. We went to your party after the bonfire, right?" 

"Yeah, the party where I got high and prematurely went into rut. Fun time," John said, brushing his fingers through his dark hair. He shook his head at Arthur, who was starting to jut his bottom lip out in a pout. 

The twang in his chest refused to subside after so long, still making its way into John with every casual movie night interrupted by Mary or when Arthur had to go do something alone. John felt like he was bordering on obsessive, Arthur had to be tired of him to some extent. He wanted the reassurance that he wasn't being a pain to his roommate, that it was hard to make friends on campus and John wasn't alone. 

John wanted Arthur to tell him one day to stop it, go his own way, because it would stop the twang in his chest from growing into a piercing stab every time he brought up Mary or OLO. 

He gulped, not wanting to falter so quickly against his roommate. But the way that Arthur's pale pink lip jutted out, quivering and glistening, made John bend until he broke. John groaned just as Arthur started to whimper, making his face look less cute and more pitiful. He tilted his head, his eyes catching a ray from the between the trees and twinkling as if on cue. 

"Fuck, fine!" John folded. 

"That's my boy!" Arthur patted at John's thigh, returning his face to normal.

John cut his eyes dramatically, rubbing his face with his hand that combed through his hair. "Are we gonna get our parents together for dinner at the Horseshoe?" 

"We better. I want to meet your knucklehead brothers." 

"Please tell me you're not inviting Micah," John said, dropping his hand. 

Arthur shook his head. "I didn't, but knowing Mom, she did." 

John groaned, leaning forward. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but your brother's a pain."

Arthur snickered at that, his hand moving from John's thigh. The warmth dissipated in a half-life, leaving John with the muscle memory of Arthur's steady touch. Goddamn him. 

Arthur left early Saturday morning to meet up with his parents at the main lawn. The guest parking lot was just past the Pronghorn Center, at the Lagras fitness center. He rested his hand on John’s shoulder, though, before he left and leaned in.

“You text me later, okay?” He asked in a low husk, his breath cascading down and over John’s face. It was a welcoming blanket of warmth, mint scented from brushing his teeth.

John responded with a quick hum, shifting in bed. “Yeah.”

“Have a good day, bud,” Arthur whispered, his hand squeezing tenderly.

John tried hard to not react; the way Arthur massaged into his muscle. If it the moment, John would’ve followed his roommate’s mouth for a quick kiss, but he swallowed the thought on impact.

“You too,” John muttered, grabbing his pillow and curling his arm over it. He could put all of his feeling into that, worming his face further into the pillow cover and imagining the affection it could give back.

At that, Arthur left the room and John alone with his thoughts. With the door locking shut, John turned on his back and kicked away his covers. He frowned at the coals in his gut, the twang in his chest.

Arthur didn’t know it, but he was making it hard on John. All they had to do was talk about it, John reassured himself. If they talked it out…

No, that was wrong. It was like he was denying what Arthur identified as. John knew better. He was still an ALA, mostly. It was just the one omega that was causing him to slip up.

And it wasn’t even slipping up, it was a measly crush. One that’s foundation was built solely on Arthur’s look. Or was it his smell? No, it was the way Arthur treated him. It was like they weren’t wholly different.

Friends. John folded both hands over his face, clawed his nails down to stretch his cheeks from their natural placement. How many times did he have to remind himself?

“We are friends,” John said, disgusted with himself. “There is nothing going on. He is friendly, I am an open vessel for friendship. Arthur Van Der Linde is a good guy.”

He threw his hands from his face, over his head as he kicked his legs out. If he were crazy enough, John would start fighting himself to admit it. He was holding onto nothing. He was seeing something there that wasn’t.

A knock at the door brought John to sit up.

“Johnny! We know you’re in there! I’m starvin’, Lenny needs to pee and Mom is taking pictures of the campus, let us in!” Sean called from beyond the door.

John rolled his eyes, pushing out of bed and going to open the door. His brothers rushed in, with Sean curling his thin arms around John’s chest with a hefty squeeze.

“Brother!” Sean exclaimed, his boney arms tightening around John’s ribcage. “How are you? Your dumbass didn’t respond to the group chat.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” John lied, his arms raised over the redhead, patting Sean’s head.

“Bathroom!” Lenny said, sliding into the bathroom and closing the door after him.

John finally folded his other arm over Sean’s shoulder with a few comforting pats before he pulled away. Sean stepped around him, his nose twitching as he smelled the room.

“So you’re bunking with an omega. He smells great.” Sean started walking over to Arthur’s side of the room, the bed already made and all of his textbooks neatly stacked at the corner of his desk.

“Don’t touch his shit,” John warned, holding the door open as he peered out into the hallway. “Where’d you say Mom was?”

“Out on the campus. She’s taking pictures,” Sean said, plopping down on John’s unmade bed.

John closed the door and turned to his brother. The redhead’s hair was shaved on the sides, his sideburns still intact to match his unkempt lazy mohawk.

“What for? And what the hell happened to your hair?” John crossed the room as he spoke, pushing over his desk chair to look out of the window.

“It’s Mom we’re talkin’ ‘bout. She’s probably planning the scrapbook as we speak.” Sean’s hands went to smooth out his hair. “You like it? Lenny helped me.”

John smirked, going to his dresser to change. “How’d Dad react?”

“Loved it. Mom ‘bout died though,” Sean said, lounging in the bed and kicking his feet up. He folded his arms behind his head, turned in the direction of Arthur’s bed. “So when do we get to meet your roommate?”

“Later. He’s with his family too. How’s Old Boy?” John pulled off his shirt and switched it for a long-sleeve Henley.

“A pain in my ass. He cries at four in the morning to go to outside. Since when did you get up that early?”

“Since we used to go on runs that early.” John added, searching the floor for his last pair of pants. He grabbed them, pulled them on and buttoned them at his waist.

The bathroom door opened and Lenny came out; “You used to go running?”

John nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

He combed back his hair, tied it up then went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “How’s soccer going?”

“It’s been alright, do you think you’ll make it back for our semi-finals game?” Lenny asked, smacking Sean’s legs away then sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll have to see. I might ask Arthur if he wants to go. When is it?” John called from the bathroom.

“First Friday of October.” Lenny said, sniffing at the air. “So, Arthur.”

“Yeah?” John leaned out of the doorway, toothbrush jutting from his mouth. He saw both of his brothers’ surprise by his urgency. “What about him?”

“He’s an omega,” Lenny said. “Is he cool?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t he be?” John said mindlessly, returning to the bathroom.

“I dunno. What’s it like?” Lenny asked.

“Have you seen him in heat, is he hot?” Sean asked, sitting up from the bed.

John leaned out of the doorway again, eyebrows firmly scrunched together. Lenny looked over his shoulder to his brother; both boys glared at Sean with a combined grimace of detest.

“What?” Sean asked, shrugging his shoulders up and looking between the two. “An omega’s an omega. Is he?”

Sean looked at John and Lenny slowly turned his head in the direction of the oldest. John’s face dissolved from detest to offput confusion.

“Uh, I don’t know.” John ducked his head back into the bathroom, spitting the used toothpaste in the sink.

He rinsed his toothbrush, then his mouth. John patted his pockets, remembering his phone on his desk. When he was out of the bathroom, Sean was leaning his phone towards Lenny while they scrolled through something.

John went to pick his phone up from his desk, only for it to be gone. He turned again to his brothers, saw from over Sean’s shoulder that they were going through his text messages to Arthur.

“You little punks.” John snatched his phone away from his brothers, scrolling back down to the bottom of his conversation with Arthur with no new message.

He sighed, slightly disappointed and stuffed his phone into his back pocket.

“You don’t have any pictures?” Sean asked with a dirty smirk.

John reached and flicked Sean in the forehead. He looked at Lenny, faked out at him as if he were next for a good flicking.

“You two sure talk a lot.”

“And he visited you when you were in rut? Does he have a brain?” Sean spoke up again.

John waved them both off, grabbing a pair of socks from the top of his dresser then stamping into his boots.

“You’ve got it all wrong.” He didn’t need to explain anything else about his roommate. That’s what he’d leave to Arthur. “You guys will meet him later. Come on, let’s get Mom before she wanders too far.”

“Hey bud!” Arthur called from the front of the Horseshoe.

John smiled at his friend, how his hand was thrust into the air with a wave. He was tired after showing his parents around with the Family Day Fair on the main lawn. Lenny and Sean were bored halfway through and were dragging their feet by the time John showed his parents his class schedule.

By the time Arthur texted him, they were on their way to the Horseshoe.

Arthur was standing with Charles; a thin woman stood behind them, a thick mass of hair in a bun atop her head. Standing a bit away was a man, dressed in a smoker’s vest and a pressed white dress shirt, lighting up a cigar with his flick lighter.

“Hey,” John said, walking closer to Arthur with his family close behind. “I am so sorry.” He lowered his voice quickly; Sean and Lenny perked up.

“Is this him?” Lenny asked, stepping around his dad.

“He’s a looker alright,” Sean added, pushing between his parents and moving John away from in front of Arthur. He forced out a purr, giving Arthur the once over of approval. “So you’re Arthur.”

Arthur’s grin never quavered, his eyes flicking over to John, who had his hand folded over his face. “That’s me. And you must be Sean.”

“In the flesh,” Sean said, puffing his chest out.

Lenny shoved his brother away in the face, taking his turn to stand in front of Arthur. “And I’m Lenny.”

Charles furrowed his brows at the two young alphas before his brother, sharing a look at John. John was working his brow, ready to step in.

They both tried to purr for Arthur, a disgusting action that caused a heavy stab in John’s chest. He reached for the back of his brothers’ necks with a harsh snap, bowing both of them down in front of Arthur.

“I’m sorry about them,” John said, sparing an apologetic glance between Arthur, Charles and the woman behind them. “Uh, hi. I’m John. You must be Mrs. Van Der Linde?”

The woman stepped up between Arthur and Charles with an entertained smirk. “You can call me Susan. These are your brothers?”

“Unfortunately,” John said with a deep exhale.

“Sorry, uh.” He looked back at Arthur then nodded behind him to his parents. “These are my parents. Hosea and Bess.”

Arthur nodded in the direction of the man smoking his cigar as far from the entrance of the diner. “That’s Dad. Dutch.”

“Should we go inside and find a table?” Bessie asked, stepping towards the front door under the awning.

“Yeah, you guys go ahead,” John said, his nails sinking into the back of brothers’ necks. “We’ll be in in a minute.”

“Okay,” Hosea said, following Bess up the stairs and inside. “Don’t be long.”

“Right, and don’t get in trouble,” Charles added, guiding his mother inside after the Matthews’.

Arthur stayed at John’s side; John turned to him and smirked. “You don’t have to stay, I’ll be in. Save a seat.”

Arthur’s smile softened, reaching out to rest his hand on the side of John’s neck. His thumb brushed before John’s ear then pulled away. “Okay. You want cola?”

“Get me a milkshake,” John added, watching Arthur walk to the entrance and inside.

After the door closed after Arthur, John brought both of his brothers’ head together for their temples to tap harshly. He pushed them away and folded his hands to his face with a tired exhale.

“What the hell was that for?” Sean asked, holding the side of his head while hissing at the pain.

Lenny was quiet, taking a seat on the stairs while he rubbed circularly at his temple. John dropped his hands and bared grit teeth.

He pointed at Sean, then Lenny. What could he say? It wasn’t his place to defend Arthur, or act jealous against his own brothers. John’s chest deflated and he opened his mouth to speak.

Sean leaned forward in anticipation, waiting for his brother to speak before scoffing in disbelief. “If you liked him, you should’ve said so.”

John still couldn’t speak, not sure how to respond to that. He stammered and shook his head, repeating his point at Sean.

“That ain’t it. Both of you need to stop acting like little alpha assholes.”

“That ain’t it, huh?” Sean asked, grinning as if he could see through John’s façade.

He sat next to Lenny, followed the motion. “So if I were cordial towards Arthur, you’d let me court him?”

“Absolutely not,” John responded too quickly, his hand waving out. “B-but not for what you think.” He glanced up to the windows of the diner then back. “It’s because you’d be wasting your breath. He’s an OLO.”

“What the hell is that?” Lenny asked, sitting upright.

“You’re lying. An omega like that?” Sean was in denial, scoffing again.

“It’s true,” John said, bringing his hand back to fold over his face. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Is she hot?” Sean asked.

“Sean, shut up!” John raised his voice. The incessant asking was only driving the stab further into his chest. It was now sending a wave of pained shock down his spine and, if he thought about it too much, John felt his eyes sting and water. “Just…shut up. Leave it alone, okay?”

He sniffed finally, biting back his tears and straightening his shoulder. John dropped his hand again and nodded to the front door. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lenny said, pushing to his feet and walking inside.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the omega this morning,” Sean teased darkly, sticking his tongue out at his brother before following Lenny inside.

John stood by, shakily exhaling after them. He started to walk inside until a hand pressed at the front of his chest.

“John, right?” Mr. Van Der Linde asked, leaning into John’s eyeline.

“Yes sir?”

“Sorry, it’s nice to meet you.” Mr. Van Der Linde dropped his hand from John’s chest and held it out for the young alpha to shake.

John took hold of the man’s hand, gave him a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Your brothers are alphas too, huh?”

“Yes sir.” John nodded.

Mr. Van Der Linde took his hand away just as John did; with his other hand, he snubbed his cigar then put it in his vest pocket. He reached up and slicked back his long dark hair, wiggling the thick facial hair that rested on his top lip.

“I, uh, saw what happened there.” Mr. Van Der Linde smirked in amusement.

“I’m sorry.” John’s shoulders bunched slowly. “T-they weren’t talking about your son. I just saw them disrespecti—”

“John, I _saw_ what happened. I know what they were doing.” The man’s dark eyes searched between John’s; with each passing moment, John’s throat slowly dried up and sealed shut.

“That was courteous of you. I’m sure Arthur really appreciates your friendship.” Dutch took a step up to the front door. “You two seem to work well together.”

John took a step up, following the man inside as he held the door open. “I guess we don’t need to try.”

Mr. Van Der Linde huffed in response, with a quick grin before turning and walking to the table. Arthur was sitting at the end of the round diner table, leaving as much free space at the end for John.

Charles sat on the other side of him, with Lenny and Sean sitting to his right. Bess sat next to Mrs. Van Der Linde; they both scooted in a bit for Mr. Van Der Linde to sit down.

John sat down next to Arthur. “Did you guys order yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you,” Arthur said. He leaned into John, ducking his head to the side to whisper in his ear. “I think your brother’s taken a liking to Karen.”

“Oh no,” John said lowly, glancing at Sean. “Which one?”

“I think you already know,” Arthur whispered, his breath a huff down John’s neck. His lips parted with a quiet pant, the feeling so foreign yet desirable.

The hurt feeling in his body evaporated as soon as Arthur moved in, shoulder to shoulder with his roommate. John smirked, twitching in a tickle at Arthur’s low laugh against him.

“So John, what’s your major?” Mrs. Van Der Linde, Susan, asked.

John snapped his head up, not realizing that he was staring into Arthur’s lap while they whispered. He searched the table to match Susan’s eyes and felt his cheeks flush pink.

“Oh, Agriculture,” John said. “Arthur and I have Agriculture Economics together.”

“And Epsilon Studies,” Arthur added casually.

“Right.” John nodded along, glancing at Arthur again.

“Have you two been eating here every day?” Bessie asked, looking at the menu in slight disgust.

“Practically,” John said, turning slanted to Arthur again. He rested his elbow on the table, his chin in hand as he smiled at Arthur.

Arthur draped his arm over the back of John’s seat, smiling back as his other hand rested on the table.

“So it’s good,” Lenny said lowly.

“Absolutely. Karen’s technically the first friend I made here.”

Bessie looked to Hosea, raising her brows and tilting her head in the direction of their son. Susan cleared her throat and sat forward.

“How’s Mary, Arthur?”

“She’s fine. She told me she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. She had to stay to teardown the OLO booth at the fair.”

John hid a roll of his eyes, sitting up as Karen walked to the table. He grinned at her and she returned it, full wattage.

“Well ain’t you a man of your word. Both of you.” She looked around the table. “And you brought me some friends.”

“This is Karen,” John said, looking to his parents and brothers. Sean was staring at her, grinning and puffing his chest; John rolled his eyes. “Karen, these are my dumb brothers, don’t mind them, and my parents.”

“I’m guessin’ you’ll want a whole cola cake, huh?” Karen asked, her fists bracing her hips as she looked down at John.

John folded his bottom lip in between his teeth, flashed an awkward grin. “Please.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I like y’all. So this must be Arthur’s parents then?” She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Van Der Linde. “Y’all want some cola cake too?”

Mr. Van Der Linde looked from his wife to John across the table. “I guess so.”

“Good! Now, what can I get y’all to drink?”

Hosea stood outside of the car with John and Bess; Sean and Lenny were inside, falling asleep on one another.

“We should probably be getting on the road,” Hosea said, arms stretching out. “Thank you, son, for inviting us. I love you.”

John bent awkwardly, allowed his father to curl his arms around his shoulders in a hug. “I love you too, Dad. Thank you for visiting.”

“I’m glad you found some friends, I was starting to worry.” Hosea pulled away from John, held his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner about Abigail?”

John forced out a pout. “I wasn’t planning on it. Did she tell you?”

Bess stood by, shaking her head. “She came by and told us. What happened?”

John shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid.”

“Are you two gonna get back together?” Bess asked. John shook his head.

“It’s complicated, Mom. But no, it might be a while. If ever.” John turned back to his father and shrugged his hands away.

He went to hug his mother next, bending the same for her to feel tall. Bess encased her son with a tight squeeze, pressing her lips to John’s hair as she swayed them together.

When she pulled away, John stayed under her hold for a moment.

“That Arthur is quite the friend,” she said with a polite grin. “Who is Mary? Another friend?”

John wanted to crumble and dissolve into the pavement. This was not the conversation he wanted to have with his parents.

“No, Mom. She’s his girlfriend.” John blinked slowly, keeping his face as neutral as possible. He was tired of the physical exhaustion his body was put through; the jealousy, and he knew that it was, was making him more tired than the family tour.

“Oh,” Bess began, tilting her head with a pitiful stare. By that, John knew what she was going to say if he’d said Mary was nothing.

“We are friends, Mom. He’s OLO.” John stated, repeated his own mantra out to his mother. The monotony of it made him even more tired, the words uttering from him as if it were on a pre-loop.

“Oh, honey,” his mother said, her hands going to cradle his cheeks. She squished them together, made John’s mouth pout out like a fish. “I’m so sorry. I can tell you like him. You two would be so cute.”

“Bess dear, that’s not up to us. We can’t change how Arthur is.” Hosea added in.

“I know, Hosey, but oh that’d be so good for you, John. An omega mate.”

John’s eyes boggled across his mom’s face; her expression was unreadable, both nostalgic and pitiful at the present. He scrunched his nose at her and shook his head.

“Mom, I’m ALA. It’s not in me to want an omega mate.” And for most of John, he was still sure in that statement. He didn’t want an _omega_ mate, he wanted a companion. But no, he didn’t want anything right now. He’d just been broken up with, now he needed to come to terms with himself.

Bess nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry, it’s wrong of me to forget that.” She pulled John’s face in and gave his whole head a hug, cradling his ear to her chest with a deep exhale. “I love you, sweetie. You call me before you go to bed, okay?”

“Okay mom,” John mumbled, squished against his mother’s jacket. “I love you too.”

“Alright Bess, let’s get on the road. We’ll get home late.” Hosea patted at John’s shoulder as he was released from his mother. “Bye John.”

“Bye Dad.” John returned, stepping onto the sidewalk as his mother rounded the front of the car and opened the passenger side. “Drive safe guys.”

He lifted his hand in a wave as the headlights flashed on. An arm draped over his shoulder and he looked to see Arthur waving just the same at the car pulling out of the parking lot.

“D’you have fun today?” he asked, eyes still forward. The headlights lit up his face, cast a shadow from his jaw and caused his eyes to sparkle.

“Yeah. Did you?” John asked back, turning forward to continue waving as his family’s car drove out of the parking lot and out of the campus exit road.

“’Course,” Arthur said, dropping his hand and pulling John in for a shoulder squeeze. “You ready for bed? You wanna watch something?”

John opened his mouth, ready to tell Arthur ‘no’ for the first time since they met. “Sure. Let’s rewatch ‘Shogun Assassin’.” He smirked playfully.

“I won’t argue with you there.” They turned and walked inside, to the elevator, with Arthur’s arm never leaving John’s shoulders.

“Your bed or mine?” Arthur teased.

John shook his head as they walked into the room. His bed was still unmade from the morning.

“Let’s push ‘em together, just for tonight.” John suggested. “We’ll move them back in the morning.”

Arthur’s hand went to tap at John’s temple. “Look at you, using your college brain. Alright, let’s get to it.”

He broke away from John, went to his bed and pulled it from the wall. John went and did the same, making enough of a crack in the wall to push it to the middle of the room. Arthur pushed his bed the same way until the two twins ultimately met in the middle.

“Now I won’t have to cuddle you,” John said.

Arthur scoffed in amusement. “Aw damn. I’m gonna miss my big spoon.”

“Shut up. Get ready for movie night.”

Arthur did as he was told, with both of them getting into their pajamas then climbing into bed. John grabbed his laptop, set it on top of the fault line of their beds and turned it in Arthur’s direction.

When they got the movie started, John went to turn off the lights and climbed back in. The two sat up in their beds; Arthur propped his head in his pillow while John held his cheek in his hand.

With a look over at his roommate, Arthur was asleep once again. John was ready to put money on it that he fell asleep around the same part the last time.

“Arthur,” John whispered, hoping that he’d respond.

Arthur hummed once, burying his face further in his pillow. John leaned towards his friend. He shook his head and rested his head on his own pillow, getting comfortable in his bed.

John glanced at Arthur again and exhaled deeply, turning away from him to face the wall.


	12. The Martyr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur continue to hang out, finding new ways to spend time together. They might as well be best friends. 
> 
> They go on a trip to see Sean and Lenny's semi-finals game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> strap yourself in, this is a really long one. it's about nine thousand words and it just keeps going and going and going so I hope you're okay by the end of it

John sat next to Arthur, resting his chin on his friend's shoulder while he sketched the walk-in model Adler found. He smiled at the soft twitching of Arthur's right hand, the muscles in his wrist tensing the more pressure he added to the pencil. 

"I think you missed a spot there," he teased lowly in the direction of Arthur's neck. 

His roommate's free hand went up and playfully swatted at John's face. "Shut up. How's yours coming along?"

John smiled egregiously, pulling away from Arthur to open his notebook. "I thought you'd never ask, my fellow artist friend." He flipped to the middle section of his notebook, holding up the piece of paper he'd spent a minute on. In permanent marker was a stick figure, legs tangled over one another to mimic the cross-legged pose the model had. 

For the hair, it was two singular swoops down to the figure's non-existent shoulders. Arthur spared a glance at the drawing, then did a double take with an entertained smirk. "How long did that take you?"

"A minute and a half. You impressed?" John looked down at his drawing then up to his friend before closing it again. 

"Very. Straight lines and everything," Arthur said before returning to his sketch. John braced his elbows to his thighs, head in hands while he waited and watched Arthur continue sketching. 

He liked it; it was pretty realistic to the original. "Why aren't you majoring in Art or something?" 

Arthur didn't move away from his paper, his lips curling down in a slight frown as he moved onto the model's chin. With a clearing of his throat, John saw Arthur's adam's apple bob along his neck; the stubble was beginning to set in, casting a shadow on the underside of his jaw. 

John's eyes pulled from the sketch to take in Arthur's profile now, waiting on his answer. He'd slicked his hair back tightly, making it look like a mullet. John's hand went up to scratch his head, knowing his unkempt hair needed a tie, or a braid, anything. 

Arthur's eyes squinted, like he would if he smiled, the skin at the edge of his eye crinkling. John bet that Mary loved that, when Arthur put in enough effort to smile and laugh. It did come easy to him when John was around. John's lips twitched at that thought, that he made Arthur laugh more than Mary did. 

"I don't know," Arthur finally said, cutting John's admirations short. "My dad's been so into history for as long as I could remember, I guess I thought it'd be easy."

John shrugged and understood. 

"Why aren't you majoring in Pre-Vet or something? Your brothers talked about your dog that you rescued." 

He shook his head, leaning closer to Arthur. "He's not a dog. He's a fox runt. His name is Old Boy." 

Arthur nodded, his left hand going out to grab onto John's wrist for reassurance; his right hand had his pencil stuck in the model's nostril. "You're right. I'm sorry."

John dropped his hand that Arthur grabbed onto, watched his friend's hand slip down until he grasped at the fingertips. "It's okay. I found him when my dad worked on a farm. The owner of the land shot his momma. I took him in." 

"Wow, that's sweet of you. Didn't know you had a heart in there," Arthur responded, his hand squeezing John's fingertips then returning to steady his paper. "You nursed him for how long?"

John scoffed, his fingers folding over one another to keep the warm wisp from evaporating. "A year. It took me about that long to convince my dad to keep him." 

"That still didn't answer my question, though." Arthur added, turning his pencil in his hold to erase a stray mark. 

John blinked, shook his head. "Right. Uh, I don't know either. My dad now works from home, he's an insurance adjuster. I didn't like farming when I was younger, I really don't know why I'm doing it now." His stare returned to Arthur's profile, now focusing on the slope of his nose. John wondered how many times Mary kissed him there, he'd never witnessed it scrunching like he liked to do. 

"I almost didn't come to school," John admitted, his hand going out to rub at the end of Arthur's flannel. "Mom and dad had to convince me to go to set the example for my brothers."

"What would you've done if you didn't come here?" Arthur asked, flipping his pencil again and going back over his lighter lines in the model's waist.

John shrugged; he never thought about it. Since he graduated high school, he thought he'd work at the construction site with his uncle. He never excelled in classes; he never went out for sports. Most of his free time was spent with either Abigail or Old Boy. The more he imagined not going to school, John thought about working at the rescue center.

"Maybe the rescue center," he said softly. John retracted his hand, tilted his head further at Arthur. "Nothing big. Maybe if I had more time to think about it, I'd probably have come back here anyways."

"Well I'm glad you're here now," Arthur said, setting his pencil down and finally looking back at John. "Plus, you can always change your major after this semester, right?" 

John sat upright. "I'll change mine when you change yours." 

"Why don't we go right now?" Arthur nodded in the direction of the door. 

John shook his head. "You ain't serious. I know you're not." He pointed at Arthur's face, circling his friend's curled lips. "Look at that smirk. You're fucking with me." 

Arthur carefully tore his page from the sketch easel pad then folded it and stuffed it into his journal. "No, I'm serious. Why not? If we don't like it in the spring, we could change it back. What's the harm in it? We're still in Gens."

John's brows quirked into a perplexed expression; his eyes darted over Arthur's face, hoping to see a fault or a tell in some sort of lie. "It wouldn't hurt, I guess." 

"Plus, less alpha dominated job industry. That could set you ahead," Arthur added. 

"Or behind. Nobody wants some rough alpha handling their pets.” John joked. Arthur’s mouth continued to curl until his lips broke apart in a grin.

John’s ego swelled at that. He liked that feat.

“One semester. And if we like it, then in the spring we can tell our parents together. Deal?” Arthur brought his hand out, holding it stiff for John to take hold and shake.

“Deal. But you can’t Mary or Charles or Micah,” John said, taking hold of Arthur’s hand.

“No problem. Mary would chew me out about it anyways. Charles too.” They shook on it, then John pulled away and mimicked zipping his lips shut.

“Ground rule on new majors, we help each other out more.” Arthur unzipped his backpack and stuffed his journal inside it.

“That’s a given,” John said, grabbing his backpack and slinging it on his shoulder. As he was about to stand up, it suddenly hit John of what he wanted else he wanted to mention to Arthur.

“Hey, did my brothers ask you to their game?” he asked, standing up slowly.

Arthur pouted his lips to the side, mulling over the question as he stood and followed John slowly to the front of the room. “No, why?”

“Their semi-finals are next Friday. I wanted to see if you’d like to make the day trip.” John stopped at the doorway.

Adler stood up from her easel and Arthur met up with her, slinging his backpack around and digging free his journal. He unfolded the piece he finished, asked her what she thought.

Adler nodded at the piece, her thin pinkie pointed towards the paper and following the motion of the sketch. John leaned against the doorway; the omega Adler tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, nodded again at Arthur’s low question.

“I think you’re doing better with faces, Arthur, don’t get discouraged.” Adler rested her hand on Arthur’s shoulder and John mentally prepared for a sting but it never came.

He crossed his arms over his chest, rubbed the heel of his palm between his pecs with a deep breath. So, it was only with Mary, horrible to know. If it were every other omega, John could’ve still lied to himself that he was just being overprotective.

“I’ll see you two next week?” Adler pointed from Arthur to John. “I better see your sketch next time too.” She joked and John spared a huff at her expense.

They ducked out to the hall, with Arthur returning his class sketch into his journal.

“You been filling that thing anymore?” John tapped at Arthur’s journal, glancing up to measure his face.

“Yeah, I’ve seen some more cats. Maybe I can sketch your Old Boy next week.” Arthur added passively, handing his journal over for John to thumb through.

John looked from the bound journal in his hands to Arthur then back. “Y-yeah. We can leave after the club meeting, if that’s okay with you.”

Arthur shrugged, zipping his backpack closed. “That’s fine. Now all we gotta do is convince Charles to borrow his car.”

John nodded, carefully unwrapping the journal and keeping close to Arthur as he did. He started from the beginning again, thumbing through the pigeons and squirrels, once again finding the blob of a cat before stopping. He side-eyed Arthur, his fingers tracing down the rigid middle of a few pages torn out.

His brows furrowed, also noticing the dates in the corners skipping further past Arthur’s heat. John’s eyes scanned to the next page, with a squirrel facing down on a light pole and a blue jay on the edge of a trash can.

It was curious, and John never got past the date of the party in the first place. He wanted to ask but didn’t, going to the next page that had the sketches from the club behind. Still nothing of Mary. Of anyone.

“You don’t like sketching people?” John asked, closing the journal and rewrapping it slowly.

Arthur shrugged. “Not usually.”

John wanted to see if Arthur would continue his thought so he wouldn’t have to bring up Mary yet again. If anything, John was surprised Arthur hadn’t suspected him crushing on Mary.

But Arthur had to know the truth, or part of it. And he hid it so well. John fought hard to keep himself cordial, to not take a chance just for the sheer thought of rejection.

“Mary’s always on me about not sketchin’ her right, so I gave up on her.” Arthur smirked, taking his journal back when John offered it.

“Bummer. To be immortalized on paper is poetic almost,” John said casually.

“Where’d you learn that?” Arthur asked, pushing open the door to the outside.

John slid through it, opening the second and letting Arthur pass by him. He shrugged. “Just something I thought of, I guess.”

Arthur nodded. “It makes you sound smart.”

John nudged Arthur in the shoulder, tilting him slightly. Arthur nudged him back, almost bodying John into the brick building they were walking past. They both chuckled outwardly at that.

Their conversation fell to silence as they crossed campus back to the dorms. John held onto his backpack straps, minded his footsteps next to Arthur’s so they wouldn’t fall in sync.

“Would you like to go running in the morning?” John asked, raising his head to look at Arthur’s profile.

“Running?” Arthur repeated, glancing over to John and seeing his eager eyes. “What for?”

“For exercise. We still haven’t made it to the gym. Sean and Lenny reminded me of it when they visited.”

“I’m guessin’ you used to do that back home?” Arthur asked, facing forward and retrieving his wallet from his back pocket.

John nodded. “Me and Old Boy used to run before the sun. We should go on one of the trails tomorrow, the shortest one.”

Arthur spread his lips to a fine line; that was new. John wasn’t sure if he liked that expression.

“I don’t know, man. I have slight asthma from when I was a kid.”

John turned to Arthur, raising his brows. “Really?”

“Yeah, nothing too bad though. It did keep me from playing football,” Arthur said with a shrug of his shoulders.

John was smiling now, stopping on the sidewalk. “So you didn’t play any sports? But you look like,” John gestured to Arthur as a whole. “this naturally? You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What?” Arthur looked down at himself then back at John.

“You’re a beefcake, as Abigail would say. And you didn’t have to bulk up for summer training or varsity to look like this.” John explained, silently admiring Arthur’s gene pool.

Arthur started laughing again, this time holding a hand over his mouth and the other to his stomach. “Stop, stop. Rewind, did you call me ‘beefcake’?”

“Yeah, so what?” John resumed walking with Arthur catching up to him.

Arthur draped his arm over John’s shoulders, leaned in with a punkish grin. “I’m your beefcake.”

“I did _not_ say that,” John stressed.

“Aww, come on _sweetie_.” Arthur teased.

The stab returned in John’s chest and he shakily exhaled because of it. He pressed his hand to Arthur’s cheek, ignoring the texture of his shadow along his jaw. John shoved his friend away from him.

“I’ll go running by myself.” John scoffed as they stopped at an entrance door to their dorm.

“No no, I’ll go with you, just name the time.” Arthur slipped his ID card from his wallet and swiped it before the reader then opened the door for John.

“How’s six sound?” John asked over his shoulder, opening the second door and holding it for Arthur.

“I didn’t even know you could wake up that early.” Arthur joked.

“Not for lack of trying.” John went to the elevator and held the button to call it. He turned to Arthur as he stopped next to him. “Maybe if it’s not too hard on your lungs we could make it a routine.”

Arthur hummed, raising his brows. He stared ahead at the silver doors then turned to John when they opened. “Maybe we’ll shape up in time for the Halloween party.”

John nodded, grinning. “Sure. I think you’ll make a great Thor, built the way you are.”

“I’m sure Mary will help you with your hair, since you don’t know what a comb is.”

“Shut up.” John nudged his elbow into Arthur’s ribs, earning a breathy chuckle from his roommate.

“You think you can keep up?” John asked just outside of their dorm as the sun began to peek over the campus.

“You think I can’t?” Arthur retorted, finishing up with tying his tennis shoe.

John stretched an arm across his chest, then the other while he stared down at his roommate. Arthur borrowed one of John’s hair ties and pulled his brownish locks back with his fingers. His head tilted back as he did so; John barely tried to hide his interest with the softened look of Arthur’s face.

He turned his head away, faking a neck stretch before shaking out his athletic shorts. Arthur decided to wear sweatpants, rolling the waist down once. He also decided for a muscle shirt, one with the sleeves cut free, leaving large slits to show his toned obliques.

John blinked the visual away, already thinking about darting as quick as possible from Arthur at the beginning until he could only think about the pain in his thighs. Then he’d slow up and apologize for leaving Arthur behind, offer to buy him a coffee and breakfast from the forbidden Horseshoe.

“Ready?” John asked when Arthur stood up.

“Lead the way.” Arthur motioned his hand out.

“If I leave you behind, we can meet at the halfway mark. You know where that is?”

Arthur nodded, adjusting his earbuds around his neck. “The main lawn fountain.”

John nodded in response. “Alright, let’s go.”

He pushed off with a light jog, just to keep Arthur with him. John kept his breath steady, reaching to hit the remote control on his earbud cord. They kept up to the end of the sidewalk then Arthur took off in a hot sprint, breaking away from John.

John sputtered to a startled halt, seeing Arthur make distance on the sidewalk ahead of him. He shook his head and continued on, folding his arms close to his body while he pumped to a fast run after his friend.

That was until his scent caught in John’s nostrils; he slowed again, his heart tripping over itself with beating. Arthur’s omegan scent slicked down John’s throat, making it into a taste.

Deep down in his gut, the coals started in a roar, only the trickle of Arthur’s scent-turned-taste dripping into him and sizzling on impact. John’s eyes tunneled, shaking with ramping adrenaline; Arthur was still running, further now without looking back, and John’s eyes targeted on the back of his head.

John pressed a foot back then took off again, picking up his pace to follow directly behind Arthur. A feverish growl began to rumble through his chest, his breathing turning to an animalistic snarl and huff.

He didn’t know what would happen when he caught up to Arthur; John knew he’d have to stop before he got too close. The thought now was chasing his omega friend, catching up to him.

Then he’d divert from him, keep going to run out the need for chase. John clenched his nails into his palm, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to remind himself of it.

Opening his eyes again, John adjusted and breezed past Arthur, taking the singular millisecond to sniff in his friend’s direction before continuing forward. He finally took in a few breaths, his throat and lungs scorching with the brisk morning air.

The drag of his inhale gushed over the coals in his stomach, breathing new fire into them before finally dampening his instinct. Whatever his instinct wanted him to do, John was disgusted with it.

He didn’t bother to stop for Arthur to catch up; John didn’t want to be seen in a wrecked state. He continued running, pushing himself past his limits until his legs seared in pain.

John’s chest was ablaze, his breath drawn ragged, when he finally stopped around the west side of the dorm. He folded over himself, his hands bracing his knees while he gulped in air and shakily exhaled.

A familiar tart, much like the taste of blood, yoyoed in John’s throat while he came down from the normally euphoric high from running. Now it was a pained twist of repulsion and shame. He thought he was better than his instinct, but he was chasing after Arthur like a standard predator versus prey.

John gave himself a silent praise, however, for pulling through from whatever dark recesses urged him to. But it wasn’t meant to be praise, because it was meant to be that of a decent being.

He outwardly grimaced, held back a sudden grotesque gag of acid. John was disgusting. The instinct was what all omegas feared, especially OLOs. That was also John’s nightmare.

“You good, bud?” Arthur asked suddenly, his hand patting between John’s shoulders.

John opened his eyes, staring at the sidewalk and Arthur’s tennis shoes. Was he? The instinct along with the deeply embedded shame of it didn’t make him think so. Still, John nodded, taking in another gulp.

“Might’ve…overdid it.” He added between heaves.

John could hear Arthur’s heavy breathing from his bent position. Arthur’s hand went from John’s back to his side, tapping him to stand.

“It’s alright, come on. Hands behind your head. Tilt your chin up.” Arthur guided John, helping his friend raise his hands behind his head and look to the blue sky, peeking through the trees surrounding the campus. “Deep breath in your nose and out your mouth.”

John’s chest shook, almost threatening tears while he listened to Arthur’s suggestion. Arthur was good. He didn’t struggle with his identity, never took his status as being looked on meekly.

Arthur was nice, almost sweet. Brotherly, almost. John was wrong in thinking Arthur ever felt a thing for him. That took a breath out of him, one he quakily regained with a slight sting in the eyes.

“That was fun,” Arthur said while John came down easier. His hands braced his hips, exhaling through the ‘o’ he made with his mouth.

John tried to nod, only thinking more about how he compared to Arthur. Arthur seemed to never falter and John continually broke in front of him. He was wrong, so wrong. John thought more about how he’d ever taint Arthur, with every time they hung out John was simply ruining it all with his stench and presence.

He shut his eyes, finally regaining control of his breathing and inhaled deeply through his nose.

John huffed in response, dropping his arms and head to look at Arthur. “Yeah. You wanna jog on over to the Horseshoe? Get some coffee?”

Arthur sucked his teeth, dropped his head and kicked out a shoe. “Man, I wish. On our run, Mary texted me and she wants me to go with her to Valentine.”

“Oh,” John said, scrambling to hide the disappointment on his face with a furrow of his brows. “What’s wrong, is everything okay?”

Arthur’s hand went from his waist to the back of his neck, rubbing at it with a casual snarl of his top lip. John noticed his lengthened canines, pushing over the bottom row of teeth. His eyes widened, brows raised before meeting Arthur’s gaze.

The run put onto Arthur’s instincts too. John tried to ignore that thought even when his eyes flicked to Arthur’s hand on his hip to see his nails sharpened to claws.

“I think so. She wants to go check on her brother, Jamie.” Arthur shrugged, dropping both hands. “But don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll be back before dinner, hopefully.”

John nodded. “Okay, cool. I’m guessing you want the shower first then.”

“If you don’t mind,” Arthur said with a flash of a grin. “Unless you wanna wrestle for it.”

John shook his head, his nose pinching with his roommate’s blaring stench wafting under his nose like a temptation.

“It’s all yours.” John added as Arthur turned on his heels and started walking to the entrance of the dorms.

John sat on his bed for an hour after Arthur left. He couldn’t bring himself to get up; he sat on his phone, waiting until the appropriate time to call Abigail and tell her, point blank, how wrong she was and how wrong he was too.

He called her while he was in the bathroom, letting it ring out as he stripped for his shower. When she finally answered, John managed to get the water the right type of scalding to scrub away his internal filth.

“I know you hate to hear it, but you are wrong, Abigail Roberts.” John said over the loud stream of water.

“Why do you say that?” Abigail asked, not minding the excessive noise. “I’m never wrong, John.”

“You said that he liked me, but he doesn’t. In fact, he absolutely denied the kiss ever happening.”

Abigail was silent on the other end. “He still has a girlfriend, John.”

She was right on that aspect; John couldn’t deny it. He ducked his head to be sprayed with warm water, slicking his hand back from his hairline to drench his hair.

“Still, you should’ve seen the way he looked at me when I brought it up. It made me feel like garbage,” John raised his voice as he tilted his head back further into the spray, letting the water batter his face. “And then today on our run, I gave chase.”

“John,” Abigail started, shock running through her tone and making John’s organs solidify. “You didn’t.”

John squeezed his eyes shut and sighed to the ceiling. “I did. I don’t think he knew though. I’m gross, Abi. I’m a disgusting freak lusting and chasing after my own roommate.”

Abigail hummed in denial. “I don’t think ‘lusting’ is the word.”

“I like him, okay? I just feel super gross for even thinking that way.” John turned around in the shower, rested his head to the tiles. “I hate myself for it.

“You don’t need to beat yourself up about it.”

“But I do! Because I feel like I’m dying inside for not at least telling him. I shouldn’t even be feeling this way.”

Abigail shifted on her end of the phone, followed by a clearing of her throat. “Says who?”

John went quiet for a moment, leaning out of the doorway. “Says us, our relationship. We dated for two years.”

“But we broke up.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.” John bit softly.

“John, I knew it was going to happen. I saw the way you looked at Arthur. It was going to be a matter of time before we’d be having this same conversation but you’d be breaking up with me.”

“So you got the jump on me,” John said with a scoff, reaching for his shampoo bottle.

“Yes! Because it was going to make you a lot more miserable than you are right now. Seriously. You’re beating yourself up over nothing. You like an omega. You previously liked alphas. That doesn’t dismiss your preference for alphas. It’s not a big deal.”

John stopped, squeezing the bottle into his palm before rubbing it on his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Abigail.”

Abigail scoffed over the phone. “No shit. But you like him nonetheless. If you got it off your chest, I’m sure you’d feel better. Just to get it out in the air.”

“What do I even say? ‘Hey, I know that you have a girlfriend who’s also an omega and you yourself are an omega but I think I’m attracted to you’?”

“Maybe in less words, but I think you’re on the right track.”

John shook his head; he was nowhere near close. He’d rather have just kept it inside forever. There would never be a good enough time to sit down with Arthur and offend him to the highest degree.

John could imagine the contusion of Arthur’s face when he said the words, his nose scrunching like he’d smelt burning garbage. John could imagine Arthur’s recoil, his extreme stepping to distance himself from John like he was a diseased animal.

He tapped his forehead to the shower tiles then, knowing it was an extreme but not wanting to test it. John didn’t want to lose the one friend he had here. The rest of his friends were already dependent on Arthur: his brothers, Adler.

“I can’t do it,” John muttered under the water trickling down his face and spouting off the curve of his lips. “I can’t do that to him.”

“Then you gotta stop bringing it up,” Abigail said in the silence of the bathroom. “Otherwise you’re just torturing yourself.”

John huffed lowly to himself; he was frequent in that. He knew how to push at the emotional bruises until he was numbed to pain. This was just fresh though, and would take a lot more poking, testing the edges, until it was all out of his system.

“Okay.” John said finally, his hands going to scrub the shampoo through his hair. “How’s work?”

“Mr. McFarlene’s getting on my last nerve. Sure, he’s given me all my hours, but now he’s switched me to swing shift so my sleep schedule is all off.” Abigail added, quickly changing the subject.

John smiled softly at the tiles, turning to rinse the lather from his hair. He appreciated Abigail as he always would, she was able to flip on a dime and pretend nothing bad ever happened.

Their conversation continued that way through conditioner and soap, all the way until John shut off the shower.

“I should actually be getting a nap in before I go in. I’m taking Bonnie’s shift, leaving me there for twelve hours.”

John reached for his towel, wrapped it around his waist then went to the sink. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Have fun at work.”

“Oh I’ll try,” Abigail said sarcastically.

John spared a chuckle then exhaled. “Hey Abs?”

“Yeah?”

“I do love you, you know?” John said, reaching to wipe the condensation from the mirror.

Abigail was silent for a moment. “I love you too, John.”

The following Friday, Arthur managed to convince Charles for his car keys. John hid his excitement for the trip back home, though he was sure Arthur could see it on his face.

“I bet they’d lose if they knew you were coming,” John said on the walk to their first class. He held his coffee in both hands, warming his palms from the incoming October cold.

Arthur grinned, his bottom lip bitten bright pink. The brisk air started pinching at the tip of Arthur’s nose too often now, giving his entire complexion a rosy look.

John found it, for lack of a better word, cute. He bet that Mary thought it too.

“Yeah, what was that about?” Arthur turned to John. “The way they were acting that day. Is that an alpha thing?”

The guffaw that left John surprised Arthur; both of them stopping with John having to fold a hand over his mouth while his other hand holding his coffee waved in Arthur’s direction to assure him everything was okay.

“Right, I’m sorry. You’ve never had alphas display for you before.” John said, pulling back his amusement to speak.

With Arthur’s quirked brows, John shook his head at him. “It’s a stupid instinct thing that I guess we never grew out of. Like…omegas and presenting. You’ve probably never done it and will never do it, but…”

John’s eyes searched Arthur’s face, seeing that he’d overstepped with the presentation aspect. “Anyways. They puff their chests to potential mates, sometimes they preen themselves. If they had feathers, they’d flaunt them like peacocks.”

Arthur spared a few breathy laughs at that, his hand going to rub the back of his neck as he blushed. “That’s odd, is it meant to be flattering?”

John shook his head. “Absolutely not, it’s way outdated. Some people take offense to it. Glad to know you’re not.”

They started walking again.

“I can tell you haven’t been paying attention in Epsilon,” John added. “Where’s your head then?”

Arthur dropped his hand and shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m already thinking about lunch.”

John chuckled, “Then how’re you gonna pass the final?”

“It’s all discussion. All I have to say is some alphas are dumb and I’ll get a ‘C’.” Arthur joked.

John feigned shock at Arthur, his mouth while his lips teased at a grin. “Then I’ll say some omegas are mean.”

Arthur scoffed. “Hardly a comparison, John.” He stopped at the fork in the sidewalk, turned to face John fully. “So I was thinking. We could skip sketching class today and get on the road so we could have lunch.”

John stopped, turned to Arthur, and took a drink of his coffee. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to miss out on your club meeting.”

“It’s just one day. Plus, I told you I’m already thinking of lunch.”

John smirked. “If you say it’s okay, then I’m down.” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur, readying himself to ask the signature question.

“D’you tell Mary where you’re going?”

Arthur’s face fell to neutral, then a slight frown. “Don’t worry about her, bud.”

John felt a nerve struck in his own chest; the sting came but it didn’t feel like a normal pain on himself. It felt mirrored by the look on Arthur’s face.

“Everything okay?” John asked.

Arthur’s mouth opened then closed, his shoulder readied in a shrug before falling. His expression was suspended, with the thought of saying something written in the way his eyes darted between John’s.

“I’ll have to tell you later,” Arthur said, quickly fishing his phone free to check the time. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” John said unevenly. “Have a good day.”

“You too.” Arthur added before turning and leaving in the direction of his first class.

John did the same, still trying to comprehend what just happened.

At the car,John offered to drive the first half of the way. Arthur stood at the driver’s door, arms folded over the hood.

“Do you even have a license?” Arthur asked.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I?” John’s hand went for his pants pocket, retrieved his wallet and pulled free his driver’s license.

Arthur squinted at the plastic card over the hood of the car. His nose scrunched as he playfully snarled in John’s direction.

“How about I drive the first half and you can drive to your house?” Arthur asked, ducking into the car.

John followed Arthur’s lead, sitting down in the passenger seat. He shut the door after him, then buckled his seatbelt as Arthur did the same.

The car started on the first turnover and Arthur rested his hand on the shoulder of John’s seat, looked over his own shoulder to pull the car out of the spot. John glanced at the elongated stretch of Arthur’s neck while he did so, only to whip the car and gear it in drive just as fast.

For the first ten minutes, they listened to the New Haven radio station on a long commercial break. After that, Arthur handed over the auxiliary cord for John to use.

John looked at the cord pinched between Arthur’s fingers, then to his friend. He took it, plugged in his phone then opened his music app.

“What do you like to listen to?” John asked.

He saw the blank flash over Arthur’s face as he stared forward through the windshield. “I like a lot of stuff.”

John furrowed his brows, shaking his head as he shifted his body in the direction of Arthur. “Okay, who’s your guilty pleasure artist?”

Arthur laughed at that, his hand wringing the steering wheel. He cut his eyes over to John, grinning and blushing. “You promise not to judge me?”

“Of course. In fact, you wanna hear mine?”

Arthur braked softly, coming up to the last light before the exit ramp. “Let’s hear it.”

John looked down at his phone, the top song on his phone a ballad. “I like ABBA.”

“Really?” Arthur straightened up in his seat and looked over at John, his eyes sparking with interest. “ABBA? Really?”

John closed his eyes as he smiled his fullest, his cheeks blushing. “I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for ‘Dancing Queen’.”

He opened his eyes at Arthur when the embarrassment quickly wore off; John caught onto Arthur’s eyes, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling while he sported an amused grin.

“Alright, alright. Your turn.” John patted Arthur’s forearm as it rested on the center console.

“I like Bruce Springsteen,” Arthur said lowly.

John didn’t even fight his grin again. “I can definitely see that for you. Blue jeans and American spirit, huh?”

Arthur scoffed, “Just the old stuff, none of the Ford truck commercial stuff. When he sounded like John Mellencamp.”

John nodded, returning forward in his seat as he searched through his music app for a Bruce Springsteen album. “Which one’s your favorite?”

Arthur spared a few glances at John’s phone held close to his peripheral. “I like ‘The River’.”

John agreed, clicking on the black-and-white album on his phone then leaning over Arthur’s arm to turn up the radio. They rounded the ramp on the first song, with Arthur’s thumb drumming on the steering wheel, and drove without talking until John fell asleep.

His hand grasped at Arthur’s forearm, leaning his head on his other hand facing the window. Under his hold, Arthur’s arm flexed and John hummed softly. He woke up an hour late in a jolt, his hand gripping at Arthur’s forearm.

“Hey sleepyhead, you okay?” Arthur asked.

John looked over his shoulder to behind them, then forward through the windshield. Both hands went to rub his eyes, then he turned to Arthur.

“You let me fall asleep? And you sat in silence?” John went to his phone, unlocked it and went to a shuffled playlist.

“I didn’t wanna wake you for my sake.” Arthur shrugged, clenching his free hand into a fist before setting it back down.

“Do you want to stop? We can grab some lunch.” John stifled a yawn and stretched an arm up to the ceiling.

“Yeah, I gotta piss too.” Arthur added, hitting the turn signal at the next passing exit.

They veered off of the highway and continued to a stop sign; looking both ways down the two-way road, they opted for the right and decided to stop at a gas-station restaurant combo.

“What do you want?” John asked as he stopped at the menu, pondering between the options of burgers.

“You know me best, I’ll be right back,” Arthur said quickly running into the store and heading directly to the bathroom.

John tilted his head after Arthur, gulped and returned to the menu. He walked inside and went to the restaurant counter, giving the menu a final look over before ordering. He paid and waited until Arthur came out of the bathroom. They picked up their food and opted to sit in the car to eat.

“Alright, so you like Bruce Springsteen and Shogun movies. Why’s it feel like I don’t know you at all?” John asked unwrapping his burger and turning in his seat to cross his legs and face Arthur.

“I don’t know what you mean, bud. I’d say you’re one of my closest friends that’s not my brothers.” Arthur opted to dig into his bag and stuff a few fries into his mouth.

John glared at his friend, narrowed his eyes at him before taking a bite of his burger. A long strip of bacon pulled from under the bun as John tried to chew; it dragged along his chin while he tried to gnaw it from the rest of his bite.

“That’s surface level, Arthur. I mean, what’s your favorite color?” John asked, holding his hand over his mouth to speak.

“That’s easy. Blue. What about you, while we’re playing twenty questions.” Arthur smirked, shoving a few more fries into his mouth. His cheeks puffed while he ate and John grinned from behind his hand.

“Crimson,” John said. Though it was starting to lean towards blue-green, or whatever the merged meet of Arthur’s eyes was.

Arthur nodded. “Alright, I could tell. You have a lot of long-sleeves that color. It looks good on you.”

John managed to pull the floppy piece of bacon from his mouth after he finished his bite. He set it back in his wrapper, managed to take another bite without blushing at Arthur’s comment.

He wanted to reciprocate, looking from Arthur’s eyes to his shirt and back. “Blue looks nice on you too.”

Arthur glanced down at what he was wearing, a blue pinstripe button-down tucked into his dark jeans. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. “Thanks.”

John pointed at Arthur while he continued chewing; he folded his wrist over his mouth as he spoke again. “Who are you closest to in your family?”

Arthur tilted his head back, hanging a few fries over his mouth before forcing them in. The end of a sharp fry stuck out from his lips while he chewed. He hummed in exclaim.

“That’s a good one.” Arthur added, chewing through the food in his mouth. “I would like to think my dad, but I know it’s my mom. Her and Charles, they listen always.”

John’s smile softened as Arthur looked at him eagerly, waiting for his own answer. “My mom’s the same way. But my dad’s that voice of reason.”

“Yeah, I got that from meeting him. He’s really nice.”

“He is,” John repeated. “Your dad’s interesting to say the least.”

Arthur guffawed behind his hand, nodded at John’s vague observation. “I’ll take it.”

They kept eating as the conversation died down until John looked at Arthur again. “Hey, what was up this morning with Mary?”

Arthur looked from his bag of food to John, staring at his friend from behind his lashes. He sat upright and exhaled deeply. John watched as Arthur ran a hand through his hair, propped his elbow on his headrest before looking over his shoulder and through the window behind him.

“We’re taking a break,” Arthur said humbly.

The pained twang struck through John’s chest; he wanted to ask more but tried to keep his reaction mellowed. There was no excitement within him, only the stinging feeling worming its way in between John’s organs like a steel wire cutting through butter.

“What happened?” John asked after a long minute.

Arthur was stiff, his chest barely rising or falling but he still exhaled again. He turned to John, dropped his arm from the window. “She said it’s ‘cause of her grades, but I know it’s her parents.”

“What? What for?” John wanted to admit that surface-level, scratching past it even, Arthur was a catch. He’d been living with him for two months and hadn’t seen a fault yet.

“I wish I knew, John, but she’s been acting funny for too long.” Arthur shrugged. “The OLO meetings have changed and now she’s been gone everyday I’ve tried to hang out. She hasn’t reached out to me.”

John frowned, crumbling his empty wrapper in one hand. “Dude, I’m sorry. That sucks.”

Arthur forced a soft smile on his lips. “It was a week ago, I thought I’d get by until you asked about it.”

“Sorry.” John apologized, putting his wrapper in his bag then rolling it closed.

“Don’t be,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “Changing the subject: are your brothers even good at soccer?”

“Not at all. The team as a whole is fine but those two are complete opposites. Lenny’s fine as a goalie but Sean’s a ball hog.”

“I could see that. He seems like a cocky bastard.”

John sat forward with a nod. “He is! Oh my gosh, if he weren’t my brother, I’d deck him in the face. Especially with you.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur’s brows curved in concern.

John shook his head. “Just with how he was acting with you. Both of them really. I’m still sorry about that.”

Arthur rolled his eyes casually. “Don’t even worry about it. Alphas are dumb.”

John leaned forward, ready to swat Arthur in the chest but he raised his hands in defeat. “Some of them.”

“I’ll take it.” John sat back in his seat, cleaning up his space. “You wanna go grab something to drink?”

Arthur nodded, jarring open his door and John did the same. They walked back inside, grabbed a couple of sodas and single-wrapped desserts then got back on the road.

“We might as well have packed and stayed the night,” Arthur said, veering back onto the highway as John took a bite of his Snoball.

He held out the chocolate cake pastry to Arthur, urging him to take a bite. Arthur did as he was told, his top lip grazing against John’s thumb as he bit into the marshmallow-covered cake.

“What is that?” Arthur asked, cutting his eyes quickly to the dessert then John before landing back on the road ahead.

“It’s a SnoBall. I should’ve asked, do you like marshmallow?”

“You kiddin’?” Arthur’s drawl was thick as he chewed through the treat. “I love marshmallow.”

“Okay, okay. What do you think of peanut butter?” John asked, pointed in Arthur’s direction, hoping he’d answer correctly.

“Love peanut butter.”

“Alright, you might be my new best friend. Even ahead of Abigail.”

“Abigail doesn’t like peanut butter?” Arthur asked, dropping a hand from the steering wheel again and resting it on the center console.

“No,” John began, mindlessly grasping onto Arthur’s forearm again. “Her job makes this peanut butter pie that she can’t stand. I remember one winter: they were selling them faster than they could make ‘em. Abigail was pissed because her uniform would reek of peanut butter when she came home.”

Arthur smiled at John’s anecdote. “This peanut butter pie sounds good.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to swing by there when we lea— oh shit. I didn’t tell Abi we were coming in.” John patted his pockets for his phone. “I think it’d be good for you two meet properly.”

“Sure, I’d love to meet your best friend, sorry, second best friend.”

John playfully shoved Arthur in the shoulder as he retrieved his phone and texted Abigail. “There’s also this peach cobbler they have, always hot and with their homemade ice cream? To die for.”

“You’re trying to fatten me up, now, aren’t you?”

“Never gonna happen with you,” John said with a shake of his head.

At the next pit stop, John decided to drive the last hour into town. When they arrived, John parked on the street as Sean and Lenny were packing up the minivan.

He stopped the car and looked at Arthur, who grinned softly. From his peripheral, John saw Sean standing at the edge of the driveway, making exaggerated kiss faces. His brother wiggled his tongue freely from his mouth, his hands going to hold his own waist.

John held his middle finger up at his brother then opened the driver’s door. “Good luck.”

Arthur scoffed, opened his door and climbed out. “Sure. Hey, Sean.”

“Hello Arthur, how’re you?” Sean asked, bracing his hands on his hips and unconsciously puffing his chest.

John juked towards his brother with a quick snarl. Sean deflated instantly. Arthur looked over his shoulder to John, who stood upright and smiled.

“I’m good, bud. You guys ready to win?”

“Please, we just invited you so I can show off my skills.” Sean grinned as Lenny came out of the door with the water cooler. “Let me help you, brother.”

John rolled his eyes at Arthur, then passed by Lenny with a pat on his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll let you meet Old Boy.”

John walked through the front door and past the living room to the kitchen. He peeked his head in to see his mother packing her cooler purse with a few spare water bottles.

“Mom,” John said.

“Johnny, sweetie, I’m so glad you made it,” Bess said, stopping in the fridge door. “Just in time too, we’re about to leave.”

“We’ll follow in Arthur’s car, is that okay?” John thumbed over his shoulder to Arthur then held his hand out for his roommate to take the keys.

“That’s fine, dear. And win or lose, we’re going to McFarlane’s afterwards.”

John turned and looked at Arthur then back. “I was just telling Arthur about their peanut butter pie. We should get some before we leave.”

“You’re not staying overnight?” Bess asked, shouldering closed the fridge and grabbing an apple from the fruit basket.

“No, we didn’t plan on sta—”

“If it gets late enough, we might stay,” Arthur said, resting his folded arms on John’s shoulders. He stood up straight, resting his chin on top of John’s head before moving to John’s left ear. “I mean, what’s the harm?”

John smirked, shrugged his friend off of him to rid the tingle down his back. “We’re gonna go see Old Boy. Where’s Dad?”

Bess polished the apple on the front of her shirt, shaking her head. “He went and tried to help set up at the field. I’m sure him and Swanson are going at it like cats and dogs. Old Boy’s out back.”

John spared an airy laugh at his mother’s expense. “Alright mom, ten minutes.”

“Okay dear. Nice to see you again Arthur,” Bess said with a grin at John’s friend following him out of the back door.

“I like your mom,” Arthur said, closing the door behind him. John stopped directly on the porch, whistling for his pet. “She reminds me of mine.”

John grinned over his shoulder, arms open as Old Boy bounded around the corner and directly into his chest.

“Whoa, you weren’t kiddin’! Look at him.” Arthur dropped down to his knees, tentative hand reaching out to pet the top of the fox’s head.

“Who’s my good boy, you’re my good boy,” John praised lowly, his fingers scratching into the fox’s fur.

Old Boy yipped, nuzzling his face in the crook of John’s neck and shoulder. Arthur was silent, in awe, sitting down fully and staring at the domestic wild animal in John’s hold.

John took the moment, gave Old Boy a little squeeze then turned fully to Arthur. “Oldie, this is Arthur. Be nice. I don’t think he bites, but be careful.”

“Oh,” Arthur’s hand was suspended in mid-action, ready to scritch at Old Boy’s black ear.

John chuckled. “I was talking about you, Arthur.”

Arthur’s lips parted with a full smile, his hand going forward to scratch around Old Boy’s ear. The creature yipped in response, wiggling from John’s hold to slide into Arthur’s lap.

“I think he likes you.”

“He’s beautiful,” Arthur said, his hand swiping down to cradle Old Boy’s jaw. “Bet you get all the scrappin’s after dinner, huh?”

“Of course,” John said, bringing a foot up and propping his arm on his knee. His other hand went behind him, watched Arthur cuddle Old Boy until his friend jerked suddenly.

“Let me go get my journal really quick,” Arthur said, letting Old Boy off of his lap before standing up.

“Okay.” John nodded.

Arthur was distracted with his sketching before the first game started. Between timeouts and game changes, Arthur was done by the time the bracket was finished.

John tried to catch glimpses over his friend’s shoulder, only for Arthur to grin and shrug up to hide his progress.

“I’ll have to show you later,” Arthur said, closing his journal and setting it on the opposite side of him.

John leaned forward and smiled, hand inching under the radar to grab the journal. Arthur caught onto John’s wrist, pulled him further before him and pressed his lips to his ear.

“I said later, dummy,” Arthur laughed breathily.

John’s smile slowly fell, a twang striking him at the lowest in his gut. He retracted, spared a smile though he was reeling inside.

After the game, which, they lost to no one’s surprise, John and Arthur sidled up on one end of the booth while John’s parents and brothers were more to their other side. The entire right side of McFarlene’s was packed with the boys’ team; they were rowdy and noisy, all young alphas uncontained by their parents.

“Hey y’all, welcome to McFarl—” Abigail began, walking up to their table with her pen and pad close to her face. She looked over the edge of her notepad and scrambled to stuff it in her skirt pocket. “John!”

She bent, her arms going around John’s body with a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, I saw your text but as you can see.” Abigail motioned to the rest of the restaurant full. “I’ve been a little busy. Two of the girls called out today.”

John could only smile at Abigail, not interrupting her while she spoke quickly. He watched her eyes cut away from him to Arthur. Her smile only broadened, her hand shoving John’s head wayside to hug Arthur over him.

“Arthur, it’s nice to see you again. Sorry about the last time, this dumbass,” Abigail began then remembered the table full of John’s family. “Sorry guys, alright. Let’s see, what would you like to drink? Y’all hungry?”

John scoffed, returning upright and folding his arms on the table as he turned to Arthur. He looked down at John, grinned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” John said softly. “You wanna eat or do you wanna try some pie?”

Arthur glanced to Abigail behind John then back. “I think I’m ready for some dessert.”

John turned his head back to Abigail, propped his chin in his hand. “Abs, I think we’re gonna have ourselves two slices of peanut butter pie.”

Abigail’s face turned sour while she retrieved her notepad again, clicked her pen and wrote it down.

“You’re just trying to ruin my night, aren’t you?” Abigail asked, smiling at the rest of the table. “I guess I’ll get your orders in, your pie’s coming in last, Marston.”

“Thank you, dear,” Bess said over the commotion of Lenny and Sean yelling at the table next to them.

“Marston?” Arthur asked as Abigail walked away.

John looked over to his parents, bubbled into their own conversation; his mom was showing pictures on her phone of the boys before the game started and his dad was nodding along with a tender grin.

“Marston,” John began, lowering his voice and sitting up. “Is my middle name.”

“Really?” Arthur asked lowly, eagerly. “That’s cool. Marston. That’s a nice name.”

John hid a cut of his eyes, draping his arm over the back of the booth and leaning towards Arthur so they could talk lower. “Your turn. Middle name.”

Arthur teasingly snarled then smiled, dropping his head to rest at John’s shoulder. That moment made John feel like they were starting to bubble themselves. More personal than before, like they’d never be bothered.

“Morgan,” Arthur said into John’s shirt.

“What?” John teased, his mouth finding Arthur’s ear.

“Morgan.” Arthur repeated, raising his head again. His face was close to John’s, almost sharing a breath between their mouths.

John tried to smile but it fell quickly as his eyes juggled between Arthur’s and Arthur’s lips. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, the word dragging from his mouth and wisping over John’s bottom lip.

“So, Arthur,” Sean cut in suddenly, bringing a scorch of pain through John’s throat. “How’d you like the game? The agility of the alpha team?”

Arthur took his time acknowledging Sean, the expression on his face an unrecognizable mixture. “You mean the alpha team that lost? Where were you, Sean? Last half, John was telling me you were a ball hog but then you fumbled on the kick.”

Sean’s face scrunched in offense, raising on a knee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was doubling down that field!”

“Playing keep away, that’s not how you play soccer, right?” Arthur was swift, looking back at John.

John spared a quick smile then nodded in Sean’s direction. “That’s not how you play soccer.”

“Shut up, who asked you?” Sean threw his hands up.

Lenny leaned forward, a bit calmer in his approach. “What’d you think of my play, Arthur?”

“You work well in a goal, Lenny.” Arthur said, his drawl taking out Lenny’s name.

“Thank you.” Lenny held a hand to shield half of his mouth. “I think we could’ve won if it weren’t for Sean.”

“I think Sean should’ve been benched at the first half,” Arthur agreed with a whisper back.

Arthur sat in the car with John, waiting in the parking lot for the rest of the family to pile into the minivan. From the driver’s window, they watched the team congregate in the parking lot talking and discussing their next move.

Most of the parents were waiting out the young alphas’ roughhousing, a couple of them running and racing in the parking lot.

“That was pretty fun,” Arthur said, cutting through the silence.

“Yeah, thanks for coming.” John responded, turning to Arthur.

In an instant, a hand was at the back of John’s neck pulling him in. His lips crashed to Arthur’s, his hand bracing the middle console as his eyes crossed.

John’s eyes fluttered closed as Arthur’s tongue slipped between his lips and egged him on. John reciprocated, leaning further towards Arthur.

He hummed, feeling Arthur’s fingers gently thread through his hair before fisting it. John’s gut roared, the coals sprinkled over with the taste of sweet peanut butter on Arthur’s tongue.

John attempted a grin, huffing through his nose.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked, breaking away but his forehead resting to John’s.

“You…taste like peanut butter,” John whispered, his nose nudging against Arthur’s.

His roommate’s breath wafted over John’s lips, leaving a cold tease. John’s hand went to hold Arthur’s wrist, leaning toward him and silently begging for another kiss.

“You do, too.” Arthur smiled softly, his pink lips reddening. “Bad timing, huh?”

John huffed. “So long as you don’t take this one back.”

Arthur’s nose scrunched against John’s then tugged his friend closer. “Never,” he whispered before kissing John again.

Inside, John felt an unknown weight dissolve from his body. The twang in his chest melted and his heart began to race. He followed Arthur’s lead, the way his roommate kissed heavily in waves before pulling away just enough for John to want more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you're liking the story so far
> 
> i've been so worried about it and i know that i'm probably paranoid but this is my first slow build so I hope I'm doing it justice


	13. Hate the Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John waits for the other shoe to drop, waits for Arthur to reel back on everything that just happened. 
> 
> Arthur and John enjoy one of John's favorite classic movies; they talk a bit about *feelings*.

John knew he'd have to stop, they'd have to stop, at some point. They'd have to get back to John’s house, or get on the road, and they were on display in the parking lot. The alphas would probably foam at the mouth if they knew, if they were keen to Arthur’s faint scent. 

He'd stop when Arthur wanted to, because it was his choice. Plus, by the sweet taste and rolling of his roommate’s tongue, John was entranced. His hand gripping at Arthur’s wrist trailed down to his shoulder. Where would it go next. The sear in John’s gut started to flourish with a painful creeping up the back of his neck. 

Arthur's fingers playfully tapped along the nape of John’s neck, pulling a groan and a further tilt from him. John expected Arthur to pull back, take back all of it with a scoff and eye roll. He wanted to be full-fledged, but he felt his heart wouldn't take it a second time. 

Arthur finally pulled away with a soft smack, his pink lips happily pinched and glistening. They curved, in the mild darkness, into a smile. 

John smiled too, his hand from Arthur’s shoulder bracing the console. Arthur’s hand slipped away from the back of John’s neck.

"So, uh, the peanut butter pie was something, right?" John said softly.

Arthur’s smile split, revealing his teeth to the flood lights of McFarlane's. "It was good. We should've grabbed some for the dorm."

John huffed. "You're right." He thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the entrance. "We could go get some."

Arthur's hand went to clasp over the back of John’s neck, his thumb running over the shell of his ear. "In the morning, when we leave, hmm? Try not to forget."

John wanted to lean into Arthur’s touch, how warm his palm was on his skin. What did it mean? John felt had no right to ask.

John cleared his throat, straightened up in the driver's seat. "So, what now? We can head back to the house and maybe watch a movie."

"What were you thinking?"

"A classic. _Roadhouse_." John added, his grin reflecting his interest. "Got it on DVD."

Arthur pulled away with a nod. "Alright. _Roadhouse_."

John turned in the driver's seat, buckled his seatbelt. "Yeah, we can watch it in Dad's office if you'd like. He's got a pullout couch. We can pop popcorn."

John went to start the car then rested his hand on Arthur's headrest as he put the car in reverse. "That sounds great, bud."

John didn't know how to take the word, it cutting through the haze that washed over him by Arthur’s kiss. He stole a glance at Arthur as he pulled out of the spot, maneuvering the car to the exit of the parking lot. He noted Arthur’s smile, the relaxed demeanor of his shoulders. 

John swore to himself, hoping that Arthur wouldn't wake up tomorrow morning feeling different. He wanted to stay in their bubble, see how much long it could hold. 

Returning to the house, John parked on the street. The lights were off inside and the driveway was empty. 

"Guess I should tell mom where we went." John said, climbing out of the car and fishing free his phone. 

He patted his pocket for his keys and shut the door behind him. Arthur followed John up the sidewalk, taking the car keys when they were offered to him.

John texted his mom that they were back at the house then opened the front door. Arthur stepped in and shut the door behind them as John searched the wall for the light switch.

A menial snarling came from the darkness but the light flooded through and it dissipated. Old Boy stood at the cusp of the kitchen walkway, in a defensive stance until he realized it was John and Arthur. His tufted tail wagged eagerly as he approached the two.

"Hey Old Boy. Keeping up the homestead?" John asked, putting his phone and keys back in his pockets. He nodded up the stairs with Arthur. "Come on, let's get some pajamas from my room and some sheets."

They climbed the stairs and John pointed to the first room just at the top for Arthur to go through.

"My dresser's the dark one. I'm sure they moved Sean in here." John reached for another light switch then walked to the linen closet. "Pick me out something too?"

Arthur nodded. "You got it. Pick nothing for you."

John smirked, opening the closet and grabbing a fitted sheet, two separate blankets and two pillows. 

He shut it back, went to his room to see Arthur rummaging through his dresser. "It's not that serious, Arthur."

Arthur scoffed, glanced up at John then back to the messy handfuls of shirts. "I never took you for a band shirt guy. I’ll wear this one," he pulled free a band tee cut like a muscle top. "You should wear this."

Arthur tossed a band shirt at John, one tucked so far back he wasn't sure if he could fit it. It was blue, with a bleached emblem decorating the front. He got it from a band promoter from a concert one year. 

"And I'll wear my boxers if that's okay?" Arthur asked, draping the shirt over his shoulder and jamming the drawer shut.

John nodded, shrugged. "The DVD's downstairs. You never said if you wanted popcorn?"

"How else are we gonna gain the freshman fifteen?" Arthur grinned.

They went back downstairs, shutting off the lights and opening Hosea’s office. John propped open the bed with the help of Arthur then dressed the thin mattress with the fitted sheet. 

"Let's make that popcorn." John said, ducking past Arthur to walk to the kitchen.

He walked to the pantry, pulled out two flat bags of popcorn then rounded the kitchen island to put them both in the microwave. John waited before the microwave, watching the bags unfold and liven with more seconds passing. 

"Do you take yours with butter or do you want the sweet one? I didn't even ask," John said, turning over his shoulder.

Arthur was changed, kneeling to scratch at Old Boy's belly. In the hallway, Arthur's hair flopped over his forehead and casted a shadow over his face. 

The oven light left a small area lit; the rest of the dining area dark. John sniffed at the air, turning back to pull the popcorn free before it burned. 

"Want some water?" John asked, juggling both bags in his hands.Arthur looked up from Old Boy.

"John, come on. Let's just watch the movie. We'll be okay." He stood from Old Boy, walked and grabbed a bag of popcorn. "I don't mind kettle corn neither."

John flashed a quick, nervous grin to his roommate then nodded in the direction of his dad's office. "Alright."

In the office, John changed through the very dated trailers. He managed to catch a glimpse of yet another Swayze movie before he shrugged on the blue t-shirt and grumbled at its length.

He didn't bother to grab any shorts and digressed, shedding his jeans and quickly sliding under his blanket then snatching a handful of popcorn. Arthur was lounged, his head in hand with his pillow wedged between.

John tried to get comfortable, propping himself up against the back of the couch while eating his popcorn before he gave up and slouched into the bed. He mimicked Arthur’s demeanor, holding his head in his hand and crept his hand into the kettle corn bag.

With a glance, he caught a smirk on Arthur’s lips. John turned back to the movie and tried to get into it before remembering the light was on and the door was open.

He looked in the direction of the two tasks, wondered if he’d put Arthur off by doing either before it was truly time for bed.

“You want me to get the light?” Arthur asked, as if on cue.

John cleared his throat, shook his head. “N-no. I’ll get it.” He climbed out of bed, stretched his shirt as much as possible with reaching to shut off the light.

John felt a pinch on his thigh and he looked over his shoulder to Arthur grinning innocently though he was sprawled over the empty bed. He furrowed his brows at him, eyes roaming over Arthur’s elated face.

He chuckled, popping a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth. “Stripes, huh?”

John glanced down at his briefs, grey and black striped. He huffed mindlessly and shut off the light then instinctually cracked the door.

Climbing back into bed, John resumed his position; he shuffled his legs under his blanket, curled further in the direction of the screen thirty minutes into the movie.

“This is best Swayze,” John muttered.

“Better than _Dirty Dancing_?” Arthur asked.

John raised his head to look at Arthur. “You serious? Did you like _Dirty Dancing_?”

Arthur’s mouth twitched, fighting off the guilty smirk that was seeping through. John sat up with a faked gasp and poked Arthur in the shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, you did! He’s like a full adult in that movie and she’s like 16!” John tried to argue.

Arthur crumbled, slowly ducking his face into his pillow as he nervously chuckled. “I can’t help it! It’s my mom’s favorite.”

“She brainwashed you,” John said, playfully pushing Arthur’s shoulder back to reveal his face. “At least you don’t like _Point Break_.”

Arthur folded his lips together, his eyes cutting away as his face started to brighten in the embarrassing shade of pink. John’s mouth dropped, pushing Arthur onto his back. He pressed his hand on the bed next to Arthur’s head and leaned in.

“You _are_ brainwashed! How could your mom do that to you?”

“ _Point Break_ was Dad actually.” Arthur added softly, fully chuckling now.

John’s mouth was open in surprise while his eyes darted over Arthur’s face; his cheeks were bright red, his teeth gleaming from the light on the television. The way his hair fell against his forehead and how tears formed in the corners of his eyes as they were scrunched closed.

“I…wanna kiss you,” John said softly.

Arthur’s laughter slowly died off with a full exhale, his eyes blinking open as he stared back at John. “Do it.”

John did just that, leaning down on his hand and catching Arthur’s lips with his. The taste was still sweet somewhat; the combination of kettle corn and butter popcorn mixing. He didn’t linger too long, ruining Arthur’s movie experience with his alpha demeanor.

He pulled away softly, only to feel Arthur’s fingers threading in the hair at the nape of his neck. John smiled against Arthur’s lips, lingering for a breath.

“ _Point Break_ ,” John scoffed against Arthur, feeling his roommate’s lips curve in another grin.

John returned his lips, shifting his weight from his hip to plant his knee between Arthur’s legs. He didn’t know if he was overstepping, he wanted Arthur to tell him his limit. He’d never been with an omega before and he wasn’t sure if he’d be with one now.

“I can stop,” John said, breaking away again. He opened his eyes to get a gauge of Arthur, seeing how comfortable he was.

“John,” Arthur said, shifting to sit up. “I know its new, okay, but you don’t have to check on me. I’ll let you know when it’s enough, alright?”

John’s mind boggled. He nodded, though he was already planning on stopping again as soon as possible. He was never one to ask for labels but at the moment, John was unraveling with the thought that he was only an experiment to Arthur.

His roommate leaned in, ready to kiss again but John turned his head slightly. Arthur followed through, pressing his lips to John’s ear. “What’s wrong?” he asked huskily.

John felt the hot cloud shoot down his back and up again like a measure-your-luck game. He shakily exhaled, tried his best to not lean into Arthur’s hold.

“I like you, Arthur.” John bit out, his teeth catching the end of his tongue and pinching him. He deserved it.

Arthur pulled back, maneuvered to look John in the face. “I like you too, John.”

John’s hand went for Arthur’s stomach, inched himself out of his roommate’s hold. “I-I’m serious.

Arthur furrowed his brows. “I am too.”

John didn’t know what else to say, everything he thought now came off obsessive and he didn’t want Arthur to slip away. His hand clasped at Arthur’s muscle shirt, smiled at how it fit him well. His thick arms and slim sides really made it work in his favor.

No, it was just that it was his shirt on Arthur. Arthur just made it work. John didn’t know how to explain himself. He inched closer to Arthur, his eyelids twitching to close while he weighed the thought to kiss him again.

“When you said the other kiss didn’t happen…I thought you were disgusted with me.” John added, pulling himself away to look Arthur in the eye.

“I—bud, I…I didn’t want you to be upset. I didn’t want to come off that way, it’s just that I didn’t know what to say.” Arthur leaned after John, pressing their foreheads together. “I still don’t know what to say. I-I wanna kiss you but…”

“I don’t wanna offend you. You’ve never been with an alpha before. I don’t want to make you feel rushed.” John cut in.

“You don’t have to worry about that, John. I’m not fragile. If we rush, we rush. But I like you no matter what.”

John gulped lowly, his throat parched from speaking. He wanted Arthur’s kiss again and again until he was sick of it. His eyes cut between Arthur’s and his lips, part of his face illuminated by the television.

He drew in his bottom lip, eyes fluttering close. “I don’t want to rush. I can wait until you’re ready.”

Arthur hummed, his nose nuzzling against John’s. “I’m ready now, John. I don’t need a grace period.”

“But Ma—tomorrow morning—”

“I will wake up next to my alpha roommate like I always do. I’ll kiss him, maybe let him be my big spoon because he might be my lover.”

John released his bottom lip and scoffed at that. “’Lover’? How old are you?”

Arthur leaned in and nipped at John’s bottom lip. “What? Not serious enough for you?”

“I dunno. Just not ‘lover’.” John teased.

“Fine,” Arthur said with a quick peck to John’s lips. “Boyfriend. Be it or be square, Marston.”

John groaned, trailing after Arthur’s kiss. “Don’t you start. You cannot use ‘Marston’.”

Arthur grumbled, snarled softly as his fingers twisted in the nape of John’s hair. John fought himself a second longer before succumbing to a kiss. His hand twisted at the front of Arthur’s shirt, pulled him closer as he rose up on his knees.

John leaned into Arthur with a deeply sated hum, following his roommate back down onto the bed. Arthur’s hand slipped down John’s neck, tracing the curve of his shoulder before gripping his hip and pulling him closer.

The rest of the movie was drowned out with John attuned to Arthur’s heartbeat. The breathy pants shared between them were short as they caught themselves; an hour into their make out, John broke away to grab a bottle of water.

He scoped around the dark house, his family still having not made it back. John ducked back into the room and firmly shut the door behind him before climbing back into bed with Arthur.

John squinted awake the next morning, his shoulder nuzzled in Arthur’s neck. His arm underneath his roommate, boyfriend, had long since fallen asleep. His other arm draped over Arthur’s waist cinched around him and pulled him a bit closer.

“Coffee?” John asked lowly into Arthur’s ear.

Arthur shook his head once, turning his face into the pillow. “No, sleep. Go back to sleep.”

His hand playfully smushed John’s face then dropped it back before him.

John tucked himself into Arthur’s neck, made a home there with another shift until his chest was flush with Arthur’s back. This he could get used to. Not having to pry himself away from inhaling Arthur’s scent.

He was intoxicating when he wasn’t using dampeners. John wanted to pinpoint it but there was so much he didn’t know where to start. The thought skated by, if he was ever lucky enough to witness Arthur’s naked body, he’d smell at his bare skin until he could recognize it in a crowd.

“Fine,” John agreed, relaxing his shoulders and drifting back to sleep.

It was short-lived with the steps creaking overhead. John sprung upright, scaring himself and Arthur out of a comforting position.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, resting his hand on John’s back.

John folded a hand over his face, thought about how best to explain his anxiety. “I don’t want Sean to find us.” He settled with. John would have to bring up later that the last time he talked to his mother about Arthur, he said they’d never be together.

John seemed so sure of it then and, for some reason, he wouldn’t go back to change it.

“That all?” Arthur’s hand roamed over John’s back then slipped down to circle his waist.

“Unfortunately. Like a dog with a bone, Sean is. He sniffs us out, he’ll be seething to tell Mom and Dad.”

“And you don’t want that?” Arthur rested his chin on John’s shoulder. “You were so soft a second ago, bud. What happened?”

“Do you want me to tell my parents? Eight hours in? They’ll ruin it with all the questions.” John found himself uttering.

Arthur turned, his nose poking under John’s chin before his lips found John’s neck. “Ruin it. Like you said, we’re eight hours in. I’m sure we can bounce back.”

“’Arthur, what happened to that girlfriend of yours? Wasn’t she an omega too? Does she know? Did you tell her? Are you two still together?’ You ready for that? They already know my side.” John deflated, planting a foot on the floor.

Arthur stiffened at the first question, his body rigid as his chin dug into a muscle on John’s shoulder. “What, you have a better idea?”

John shut his eyes, thought a moment as the steps descended overhead and continued until right before the door. He waited for it to fly open, as was par with Sean’s lack of minimalism. He looked at Arthur then to the door as it slowly creaked open and his mother’s head popped in.

“Hey sweetie, Arthur. Good morning,” she began.

John watched as her eyes cut between the two of them, still encapsulated in their blankets, with Arthur resting his head on John’s shoulder. She smiled softly, returned eye contact to her son.

“Would you guys like some pancakes?”

John nodded, turned to Arthur and nudged him. “Pancakes?”

Arthur nodded, hiding his face in John’s neck. John flashed a nervous grin at his mother.

“We’ll be out in a minute and help.”

“Okay dear,” Bess said, ducking her head back out of the room. “Take your time.”

She shut the door. John’s hands went up to rub at his face, groan the more he thought about it. He moved to face Arthur, who was now back in bed hiding his face with his forearms clasped over his ears.

“You can’t hide now, she just saw you!” John reared up on his knees and leaned over his roommate.

“I thought you’d have a better idea!” Arthur retorted, face going beet red behind his elbows.

John rested his hands on either side of Arthur’s head, leaned further in. “What the hell else was I supposed to do? I can’t hide you.”

Arthur unfolded an arm from his face with a smirk. “You could’ve tried.”

“At least she didn’t berate you with questions.”

“Yet, John,” Arthur said, pushing himself upright. “She hasn’t berated me yet.”

John stared at Arthur, scrunched his nose in thought. “What do you think Mary will think of this?”

Arthur’s brows furrowed extremely, his entire face following to make him look condensed and mean. “I don’t want to talk about her, John.”

John’s mouth opened to say something but he clammed up staring into Arthur’s lake eyes; they were small now the way they were narrowed. Instead of blue depths, he saw jagged blue edges like sapphire daggers.

“Arthur,” John began though he didn’t have to finish. Mary was none of his concern, their relationship was their own and Arthur was with him now. Wasn’t he? “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Arthur’s face immediately softened with a snort. “What?”

“Would you, Arthur Morgan Van Der Linde, like to go on a date with me?” John asked.

Arthur’s lips folded together to hide a cringed look on his face. His hand went to smush away John’s face. “Don’t say the full name. We ain’t in the old days.”

“Will you just say yes or no?” John said, his cheek smushed.

“Fine. Like we haven’t gone on one before.” Arthur joked.

“Like when?” John pulled away from Arthur’s hand.

“The diner every single time.”

John shook his head. “You can’t count any time we went out together when you were dating…you know.”

Arthur cut his eyes. “Okay. But new ground rule.”

“What?”

“We don’t bring her up. You don’t need to compare. You think I’m comparing myself to Abigail?”

John never thought about it. “Are you? Because you shouldn’t. You’re nothing like her in a lot of ways but I like you no ma—”

Arthur stared at John, almost baffled by how he couldn’t see it. “John, do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Yeah, I mean, I think I do.”

Arthur folded his hand over his face with a deep exhale. “Like you just said, I like you no matter what. Don’t compare yourself to Mary, okay?”

John’s brows flexed in slight confusion but nodded. Arthur leaned in and kissed the corner of John’s lips. He hummed in response, wanting to pursue another kiss but remembered his mom in the kitchen.

“Okay. Get dressed, I think I smell bacon.”


	14. You Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and John go costume shopping. Arthur takes John on their first "official" date. They also attend the Oscar Delph Lima Halloween Party and John wonders if Arthur will get bored of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the playlist link for the ODL Halloween Party music if you care about immersion (it's a lot of 2014 rap. ps. it's meant to listened in order)
> 
> ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/615dFsCe0KCDHOTtG6yGKr?si=lFD3u4iHTUq6Z8rw1QLrbA
> 
> ───────────────⚪───────────────────
> 
> ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ❐ ⊏⊐

After breakfast, John and Arthur said goodbye to John’s family then decided to get on the road. Arthur opened the driver’s door and leaned over the hood.

“Hey, while we’re out, we should get our costumes for Saturday.”

John folded his arms on the top of the car, foot propped up in the passenger doorway. “Sure. Thor and Loki.”

Arthur grinned. “Yeah, you think there’s a Halloween store open in town?”

John nodded, pointed in the opposite direction the car was facing. “Back on the road McFarlene’s is on. It should be in the plaza further down.”

Arthur tapped the hood, ducked into the car. “Let’s go.”

John followed suit into the car, shutting his door after him. He stared out of the passenger window, waving at his mom and Lenny standing on the front porch. Arthur pulled off of the curb and pulled a quick U-turn before speeding out of the neighborhood.

“We gonna grab some pie on our way back?” John asked, fastening his seatbelt.

“Oh right, let’s stop there first. I’m sure Charles will love the smell of peanut butter in his car.” Arthur grinned.

They pulled into McFarlene’s parking lot and Arthur stopped the car; John climbed out and walked into the diner, surprised that Arthur followed him in. They stopped at the front counter, in front of the register to see Abigail counting her morning bills in.

“Hello boys,” Abigail said, shutting the register closed. “You getting on the road?”

“Just about,” John said with Arthur resting his chin on his shoulder. “We wanted to get some peanut butter pie for the road.”

“You must hate me deep down, John.” She grimaced, her lips turning down while she tried to hide a slight smirk.

With a press of a button on the register, Abigail rang them up for a pie and two drinks to-go. John produced his wallet from his back pocket and paid for their road meal.

“I’ll get your damn pie.” Abigail groaned then, giving John his change and turning in the direction of the pie display case.

Arthur moved from behind John to his side, folding his arms on the counter. John glanced over at him, wondered if Arthur was already tired of touching him. He didn’t mind it; he didn’t know if it was an omega thing or just an Arthur thing.

It wasn’t much to split: Arthur was an omega. But were his mannerisms his own? John didn’t want to question it. His thumb reached out, rubbing a small circle just above Arthur’s elbow in acknowledgement.

Arthur turned to him. “You okay, bud?”

John nodded. He wasn’t, but he would be if they could get through the first day. John didn’t know if he was making a good impression on Arthur or not.

Did things change? Did they have to?

Abigail returned with a fully packaged pie in a white box. “Disgustin’ peanut butter pie for you. What do you want to drink?”

“Cola,” John said and Arthur thumbed in his direction with a nod of agreement.

What was different? Anything? Now they could kiss without feeling regret, if their feelings were one-sided. John didn’t know if he could focus now that was so.

He leaned against the counter, staring at Arthur’s profile with a soft smirk. John’s hand reached out to line down his boyfriend’s jawline. “You gotta shave. I don’t think Thor looked so rough.”

“What, you don’t think Thor took an off day?” Arthur asked with a grin.

“Never. Didn’t he have to defend Earth with the Avengers?” John turned to his side, propping a foot up on the leg bar.

“Didn’t you wait until after the credits? They got shawarma.”

John shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t stay. Wait another two minutes for a thirty second scene?”

Arthur feigned a soft gasp. “I hate to say it, John, but we have to break up now.”

John’s chest twinged in upset though he could tell by Arthur’s face he was kidding. He fought a smirk at his boyfriend. “Time of death: 10:48 am.”

“What a bummer. You were a good kisser.” Arthur leaned in, nose nudging against John’s.

“Yeah, shame. Guess I’ll have to eat this pie by myself,” John whispered.

They hovered for a second, eyes half-lidded as John thought about it. Abigail returned with a clear of her throat, setting two Styrofoam cups on the counter before them.

“I see you two have gotten close,” Abigail said, quirking a brow as the two broke apart.

John straightened up with a low grunt; Arthur tried to eye the various décor on the diner walls. Abigail scoffed.

“Guys, it’s fine. You’re cute together.”

“We are not cute.” John retorted. “We’re…rugged.”

Arthur snorted out a laugh and Abigail followed suit. John looked between the two of them guffawing at his comment and spared a few airy chuckles at himself.

John stood in dressing room, tugging the leggings around his thighs to make them fit. He’d done his best as he stared into the mirror but the shadow around his groin made him uncomfortable.

He stepped back from the mirror, stared down at the leggings as he realized the shadow was printed on the fabric. John pulled it away from him, maneuvered it again as a knock came at the wall.

The dressing room was only guarded with a curtain; he pulled it back slightly to see Arthur. He’d put on the full costume, minus the fake muscle sleeves.

Arthur flourished the cape behind him, put a fist on his hip as he raised his chin with pride. “Well, what do you think?”

John nodded, jutted a lip out in approval. “It looks good. Turn around.” He circled his finger and Arthur did as he was told, grabbing his cape and cascading it over his shoulder.

John furrowed his brows then scoffed at the shadow painted on Arthur’s leggings to cinch in the tightness of his ass. His thighs looked good in the mesh pattern though, as if he was molded into it.

“You should put the cape back,” John said.

“Why?” Arthur looked over his shoulder at John then curved his back to jut out his backside. “Is it too tight?”

John cleared his throat, shook his head. “No, it fits great. Does it feel too tight?” He asked, tugging away the fabric from his groin again.

“Nope.” Arthur returned to normal, turning around to face John fully. “Well, come on. Let’s see yours.”

John shook his head. “Absolutely not. It doesn’t fit.”

“It doesn’t?” Arthur asked, stepping close to John holding the curtain over himself. “Let me in, I wanna see.”

John narrowed his eyes at Arthur then stepped away from the curtain. Arthur slipped inside and folded a hand over his mouth.

“Bud, is it too tight?” Arthur asked, his eyes staggering to look down any further than John’s chest.

“No, it’s painted.” John turned in the direction of the mirror, folding a hand over his dick and pulling the stretchy fabric again.

“That’s not helping.” Arthur added, his head tilted at John’s backside.

“I can see that,” John said, stopping again.

“The jacket makes your shoulders look good though.”

John straightened up, adjusting the jacket on his shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Yeah man.” Arthur nodded, raising his head.

John stared at Arthur’s reflection in the mirror; was Arthur checking him out? Did he do that? John thought about how he used to steal glances at Arthur but he never thought of Arthur doing the same.

His cheeks slowly grew hot, a ticklish feeling roaming between his shoulders. John tried to not think about it, returning his hand over his crotch.

“I might just get it. I don’t think it’ll make a difference sizing up.” John glanced over to Arthur. “Alright, get out.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at checkout?” Arthur asked, pulling the curtain back enough to step out.

John nodded. “Give me a minute.”

“You good?”

John nodded again, looking down at the floor. “I’m good.”

Arthur drew the curtain back after he left and John rushed to pull off the costume. He pressed his palm over his eyes, ignoring the throb of himself. No, they were past that. It was day one and John was acting like a grade-A pervert.

He breathed deeply, the flashing thought of Arthur’s thighs causing him to grimace. John chastised himself inside then stuffed the costume back in its bag before dressing back up.

He stamped into his shoes and left the dressing room, meeting up with Arthur on his way to the checkout counter. “I need my crown, right?”

“If you want to. I think it’d look hot,” Arthur said, reaching to tuck John’s long hair behind his ear.

“Hot, huh? I definitely need to get it now.” John broke away from Arthur and walked back to the aisle he found his costume. He grabbed at the last gold headpiece with horns and tucked it under his arm.

“We can’t kiss if we’re dressed like brothers, you know that right?” John added, returning back to Arthur in a few strides.

Arthur snapped his fingers and stretched his mouth down in a cringe. “Dammit. We’ll have to just wait until we’re alone.”

John laughed, bumping his shoulder into Arthur. “I can wait, can you?”

“Bet I last longer than you,” Arthur said, his elbow going for John’s ribs.

“Doubt it.”

They returned back to campus in the afternoon after sharing the driving. John sat down on his bed, set his costume on his desk and propped his headpiece on his dresser.

Arthur threw his bag to his bed then stripped off his shirt with a grunt. “I’m taking a shower. You wanna make dinner tonight?”

John nodded, plugging his phone into its charger then kicking off his shoes. He reached for his laptop, ready to get started on his homework, but stopped as Arthur walked over and leaned to kiss his lips.

John reeled, his eyes fluttering closed. This would be their normal now. He could get used to it.

Arthur pulled away with a smirk then went to the bathroom after grabbing his towel from the hook on the door. John leaned forward, waited until the door locked after Arthur before opening his laptop.

He’d never thought about omegas sexually before, and only Arthur once, and it was coming back to him as he thought further about it. John didn’t know if Arthur would ever do it, maybe they’d never get that far.

Still, the thought itched at him and he opened an incognito tab on his web browser. John gulped and quickly typed out ‘alpha/omega sex’. He cringed at himself clicking the ‘enter’ button and felt his cheeks grow hot again with the search results.

John shook his head, scrambling to exit out of the results and search history. He’d rather just cross the bridge if they ever got to it.

“Hey bud,” Arthur called from the shower.

“Yeah?” John asked, quickly shutting his laptop and setting it aside.

“Can you grab my shampoo bottle from under my bed? This one’s out.”

John pushed to his feet and knelt to pull out Arthur’s spare box. He pulled free a white shampoo bottle then pushed it back and stood up. He walked to the bathroom, rapped his knuckles on the door until it jarred open with Arthur poking his head out.

“Thank you,” Arthur said, water dripping from his locks and chin.

John tried to smile, catching onto Arthur’s scent amplified. His eyes dragged over his roommate’s damp shoulders then stepped back. “No problem.”

After a week, it got easier to return to normal with Arthur. John expected them kissing, having a label and not changing anything else to end terribly. He didn’t know that it barely changed anything.

They still went on runs in the mornings, walked to class and met for lunch. They even tried holding hands before realizing it wasn’t their style.

On Friday morning, they walked down the sidewalk with Arthur’s arm around John’s shoulders.

“You ever watched the _Nightmare on Elm Street_ series?” John asked, taking a sip of his coffee. “We could make it a marathon tonight.”

Arthur shrugged. “I heard there’s a drive-in an hour out of New Haven. Why don’t we do that?”

John raised his brows. “Steal Charles’s car again on a Friday night? Shouldn’t he get his own freedom?”

Arthur shook his head, leaned in to nudge his nose to John’s temple. “Don’t you worry that little alpha head about it, bud. He’s got better plans than worrying about his car.”

“Oh. Who’s the lucky girl?”

“There’s no girl, baby,” Arthur said and John whiplashed to look at him. “It’s something else. He’s taken up boxing recently.”

“Wait, rewind,” John said, the back of his left-hand swatting Arthur in the chest. “did you just call me ‘baby’?”

Arthur’s lip curled awkwardly in the corner, revealing his naturally sharp omegan canine. He seethed inwardly, looking at John. “Should I not? I was trying something out.”

John didn’t mind it, but he wasn’t sure how well it fit coming from Arthur’s lips. His soft southern made the word so much blunter, it was hard to not notice.

“Keep working on it,” John said, bringing his coffee cup to his lips again.

They stopped at the fork in the sidewalk and Arthur dropped his arm from John’s shoulders.

“Anyways. Consider the drive-in? I know they have some sort of horror movie fest going on every weekend. It might be better than staying in.”

John stared at Arthur, pursing his lips in thought. “Wait, does this count as your date or mine?”

Arthur scoffed. “Please. You were about to count staring at Robert Englund’s melted-cheese face for six hours as a date. This is mine.”

John’s nose scrunched on his face. “You don’t know that. Maybe I was gonna throw you off and we could’ve gone and done anything else.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Arthur said, raising a finger to flick at John’s nose. “Your nose is your tell. You can’t keep a straight face.”

John teasingly shoved Arthur in the chest. “Shuddup. I will consider the drive-in, alright? Next date is on me.” His hand grasped at the front of Arthur’s shirt and pulled in him, the rush of him washing his scent over John’s face. He presses his lips to Arthur’s then lets him go.

“We’re meeting for lunch, right?” Arthur asked, eyes still shut and waiting for another peck.

“Yeah, _babe_ , don’t even worry about it.” John added, reaching to squish Arthur’s cheeks together.

John sat in the passenger seat yet again while they drove out of New Haven. Instead of waiting for Arthur to offer the auxiliary cord this time, he folds a leg underneath him and goes searching for it, finding it slinked between the driver’s seat and the center console.

“I have to ask: who’s your favorite horror villain?” John asked, plugging his phone in and immediately clicking on ‘Bruce Springsteen’s Greatest Hits’. He’d been trying to get into it more, for Arthur.

Arthur grinned, merging onto the highway and going west. “I’ve always been a Michael Myers fan.”

John leaned on the console and grinned. “Why, is because you two are the same height? Same build almost?”

“Yeah, you know what, that’s exactly it. I rooted for him to terrorize Jamie Lee because we have the same shoe size,” Arthur said with a laugh following. It was rich and deep, something that almost came from his belly.

“Okay, okay, but why really?”

Arthur shrugged. “I dunno.” He stole a glance over at John. “He seems like the safest bet if you want someone to be dead.”

John’s eyes widened while a deviant smirk played on his lips. “He’s not a hitman.”

“I know that,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. “Just…he’s a hunter.”

“He’s persistent, sure, but I’ve only seen him kill-like-two people a movie.” John added, turning in his seat to face Arthur.

“Alright, so who would you pick?” Arthur shifted a hand off of the steering wheel, placing his left in the center at the top. “I’ll shit on your favorite.”

His free hand rested on John’s forearm on the console, then slipped to rest his palm to John’s. Suspended, their fingers tensed back against one another. John let it fade to the background while he thought about his favorite.

“Ghostface.” He said finally.

Arthur snorted through his nose and glanced over to John. “Oh yeah? Why?”

“He’s a notorious 21st century murderer. And he’s spawned a lot of copycat killers in his franchise.” John stated. “I bet if we go to the party tomorrow, we’ll see way more people dressed as Ghostface than Michael.”

“Well duh, because Michael is legitimately scary. Someone shows up in his mask and doesn’t talk, you don’t know. It could be the real-life Michael Myers underneath.”

John’s mouth pinched small, not wanting to admit that Arthur made a good point. His fingers twitched upwards in response and Arthur huffed.

“At least we can agree that Freddy Kreuger is the worst.” John added.

“Definitely.” Arthur nodded once. “I didn’t know you were so into horror films.”

John shrugged. “I like horror and action. Spy movies.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“And aside from your parents brainwashing you with bad Swayze, you like older Shogun movies.” John sat down, pulling his legs out from under him. With his free hand, he propped his head up on the door ledge and looked at Arthur.

“I do. I’m a sucker for actual classics. They could be forgotten tomorrow, you know.”

The corner of John’s mouth twitched and he nodded. “You’re right.”

The car fell into comfortable silence, with both boys’ fingertips twitching against one another. Bruce Springsteen whisper-crooned through the radio until they took the exit to the drive-in.

The radio hissed in static then came through with a broadcast. “Welcome to Rhodes, home of the popular Meadows Drive-In. We hope you’re having a Spooktacular weekend. Tonight on silver-screen one is the double feature _Psycho_ and _The Shining_. On silver-screen two is _Friday the 13 th _and _Pet Sematary_. Hope to see you boos and ghouls there.”

John reached for the dial and turned it down further. “We’re going to silver-screen one.”

“Really? I thought I was gonna have to pull your teeth about it.” Arthur added, stopping at a red light in a four-way intersection.

“I will not deny you your movie, Arthur. I do that too much too often.”

“That ain’t true. I let you choose the movie because…”

“I should’ve been doing that to you, dummy.”

“Then we’d have nothing to watch, going back and forth.”

John nodded, and the light turned green. They continued down the road until the large billboard signs for the drive-in were seen. Arthur turned onto a dirty gravel pathway, spinning up dirt as he drove up to the ticket booth.

“Two for screen one,” Arthur said, lifting a hip and digging into his back pocket. He pulled free a bill from his wallet and handed it over, receiving two tickets and his change of two bills in return.

He stuffed it into his front pocket, rolling through the fenced gate and turning to drive around to screen one.

“I’ll get the popcorn. Unless you’re hungry. You think they got corndogs?” John asked, rolling down his window to allow the brisk autumnal air in the cabin.

“Corndogs sound so good right now. We should eat now and then we can get popcorn for the movie.”

John agreed, and they parked at one of the marked spots in the dry grass. It was the perfect spot, halfway between the screen and the back of the lot where they wouldn’t have to crane their heads through the windshield to see.

They climbed out, with Arthur locking the car and waiting for John to round the front. “Did they say what station to tune to?”

“We’ll ask when we get up here.”

John stood in line before Arthur, staring at the dimly lit menu propped overhead a single booth shack. He patted his pocket, made sure his wallet was there as he mapped out what he was going to get.

The line moved relatively quick, and John was in front of couple of teenagers in a minute. “Hey, can I get two corndogs, two colas, a basket of fries and a pretzel?”

One of the teens mindlessly rung up the items while the other lurched into action. Arthur rested his chin on John’s shoulder. “You buyin’ out the house?”

“Not tonight. I can’t help it if I’m hungry.”

“But you’re sharing, right? I’d like myself some of those French fries.” Arthur quirked his brows and John tilted his head, nudging him in the temple.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Arthur.” John pulled free his wallet and paid, asked what station they were to set to, then stepped to the side to retrieve his food.

Arthur followed suit; as the food was placed before them, John divided the items between them and nodded back in the direction of the car. Arthur couldn’t wait, stuffing the corndog in his mouth and taking large bites as he unlocked the car.

John climbed back in, reclined the seat back then set his food on the dash. He reached for the fries first, grabbing a slight handful then dangling them into his mouth. Next, he went for his soda with a long pull and exhaled in relief.

He couldn’t help that he was in fried food heaven, no offense to the Horseshoe. Arthur watched John graze, shaking his head but minding his own meal.

When he was finished, John pressed his fist to the meet of his ribs just over his stomach and released a belch. He looked over to Arthur and quickly tried to correct himself by wafting his stench out of the window.

“I am sorry, Arthur. I shouldn’t’ve.” John tried but Arthur kept eating, stifling the amused look on his face.

“That should’ve been disgusting, but alpha belch, wow that does something for me.” Arthur joked, holding his hand to his chest as he swallowed a bit of pretzel. “And the smell of grease and hot dog, you might just have me, John.”

John shook his head, bit back a laugh as Arthur finished his food. “I don’t think you want anywhere near this gas pit.”

“Hot.” Arthur said sarcastically. “Really.”

John crumbled up his trash then held his hand out to take Arthur’s too. He pushed the door open and searched for a trash can then came back just as the previews were starting.

“Do you want popcorn?” John whispered, ducking his head into the open window. Arthur adjusted the dial, finding the station the loudest and clearest of all.

“Nah, get in the car.” Arthur whispered back and John did just that, climbing into the car and shutting the door.

They were silent, staring through the windshield to the large projector screen. Arthur quietly pulled the center console up and set the keys on the dash then sat back in his seat.

John’s hand slowly inched over the seat and the smooth middle where the console was before stopping as Arthur looked at him.

“This was a good idea,” he said.

John nodded in response, retracting his hand in the same fashion. He wanted the option to be there, that if the movie wasn’t all it cracked up to be, John’s lips were free entertainment.

As soon as he thought of it, he grimaced and his face folded on itself in disgust. John turned away, tried to work out whatever expression was plaguing his face after such a jerkish thought.

When he felt he’d fixed himself, John returned his eyes front to stare dully at the trailer for the drive-in’s next biggest movie marathon, the Christmas marathon.

He was unfocused on the lineup for the winter movies, not wanting to acknowledge that that would signify the end of his first semester at New Haven. John barely thought about the passing of time, unless it was related to Arthur. He scoffed at the thought and spared a peripheral glance at his companion.

Arthur wore a henley long-sleeve, one of few that John had seen from his wardrobe. The green of it was washed out against the brightness of the screen, and the light cut just before Arthur’s waist.

John had to admit that the sleeves were close to their seams by how Arthur rolled them up over his forearms. He wasn’t going to acknowledge anything else, how Arthur was well-built and the shirt showed.

No, he wasn’t going to acknowledge anything else. John leaned further to the window, trying to catch a breath of fresh air that wasn’t Arthur. Not that it bothered him, but if all he could smell was Arthur then he wouldn’t focus on anything else.

The movie was barely started and John wanted to pull Arthur’s attention. Was Arthur addicting? John couldn’t see how he wasn’t. He didn’t know if he was going crazy over the thought; was this what other alphas felt around omegas they courted?

How did they survive? How did his parents? Dad could go hours without seeing Mom, but he was always ecstatic when he saw her.

That had to be something mentioned in Epsilon Studies; John had fallen behind not long after Arthur did. It had to be with A/O pairings because with Abigail, John never felt without. In fact, John felt content going hours without talking.

He twitched his head once; he was not going to compare Arthur to Abigail. Arthur wasn’t doing that, was he? John glanced over at Arthur again, mapped his profile three times with the longest part spent on his nose.

Did Arthur feel like John did right now? Was he itching inside to cut the distance? The coals in John’s gut roared to life, the heat building up into his chest as the imagined smoke tickled into his nostril. He inhaled deeply, catching onto Arthur’s scent again, and relaxed his shoulders.

John exhaled through his nose, like he’d gotten a fix and tried to hone his attention to the bright screen before him. Little did he know that Arthur was closer to the middle seat now.

John shifted in his seat, not-so-casually stretching his arms over his head before resting his arm around Arthur’s shoulders.

“Smooth,” Arthur whispered in response, eyes still trained forward.

John took it in stride, he knew what the move was. His other hand was pressed between his knees, his thumb wiggling between his legs while he urged himself to breathe steadily.

It wasn’t like this any other time they hung out. Then again, those times also didn’t have the label of a ‘date’ slapped onto them. John wanted to do right by Arthur, show him that dating an alpha wasn’t aggressive. He was his first, after all.

Arthur didn’t have to worry about it, did he? He was so casually confident, it barely faltered. John struggled to be in the same headspace, content with every action he made, hoping he wasn’t ruining Arthur’s night.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, turning slightly to John.

“Yeah. You?” John replied quickly, almost too quickly. He didn’t want any doubt on Arthur’s part.

“Yeah, but…you’re stiff, bud. Relax,” Arthur suggested, turning his attention back to the movie.

John took Arthur’s advice as best he could, attempting to worm out of his own head as he relaxed his shoulders again. Arthur took hold of John’s wrist, pulled his hand from his knees and rested it on his thigh.

High up on his inner thigh, John thought. All he could feel was warmth and, if he squeezed, he was certain he’d feel muscle.

John tried to hide the hard swallow of the lump in his throat, but it was no luck. Arthur told him to relax but now John was thinking about how tight Arthur’s jeans were. He had to retract his hand. His index finger twitched against the inseam of Arthur’s pants before he slowly pulled his hand back.

They were now twenty minutes into the first film. John didn’t know if was going to make it; sitting so close to Arthur intimately made him feel like he was going to spontaneously combust.

John chastised himself again, he was ruining their date the more he let his mind get the best of him. He didn’t need Arthur to fix it, he’d gotten by fine before.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, tried to pick up where he last left the film. Arthur shifted in his hold, leaning in and breathing on John’s neck.

John shut his eyes to stop them from rolling; now he just wanted to melt. He hadn’t realized that the sun was past set and the brisk outside air had turned cold.

He reached to roll up his window until it was a crack then lengthened his neck as Arthur’s nose nudged along his jaw.

“Enjoying the movie?” John quipped softly, though the words came stuck in his throat.

Arthur hummed, his tongue lashing out and flattening to John’s hot skin. John timidly faltered, his free hand going back to grip at Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur’s hand went to grab the front of John’s shirt, turn him while he lapped over John’s scent gland with a heavy tongue. John did his best to remain stiff, but the façade fell away as his hand grazed further up Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur’s breath picked up in John’s ear as his hand brushed over Arthur’s groin. John’s eyes widened with the acknowledgment that Arthur was getting very hot under the belt.

“A-are you in heat?” John whispered.

“No,” Arthur said, shaking his head and trailing his tongue up to John’s ear with a nibble to follow.

John faltered yet again, leaning after Arthur’s teeth, his hand pressed to the seat behind Arthur. He turned and caught Arthur’s mouth in a kiss, bending to his boyfriend’s whim in an instant.

He adjusted himself in his seat, trying his best to hide his arousal. Arthur pulled away with a soft smack then smiled at John.

His chest heaved staring at John, half of his face illuminated by the bright screen. Arthur’s eyes cut down and back before running a hand through his hair in frustration.

John tried to read Arthur’s expression, half of his face flushed with pink while his eyes cut down to the seat and back. John thought about it, his eyebrows furrowing, before he caught on.

“Oh,” John muttered finally.

He just didn’t know what to do.

John thought of how best to approach, knowing they were in the same predicament. He inched closer to Arthur, noses chafing before catching his lips in another kiss.

John pulled his hand back from behind Arthur, reversing his touch from the waist to find the button of Arthur’s pants.

Arthur groaned into John’s mouth, spurred John to continue. He wanted to know Arthur’s limits, then never go past them.

Timidly, John undid the button of Arthur’s pants then touched his middle finger to the first bit of skin he felt. He lost his breath, pulling away for a second, and Arthur released a soft pant.

John rested his index finger next, the two sliding back and forth on Arthur’s waist. He felt at the soft, wiry hairs against the skin, tried to imagine their color. Arthur’s hand found the back of John’s neck and slipped his tongue into John’s mouth.

John tried to keep his mind on-task, following Arthur’s lead in the kiss and taking his own as now four fingers were petting over Arthur’s waist. He inhaled through his nose Arthur’s scent then slipped his fingers under the elastic band of Arthur’s briefs.

Arthur pulled back with a soft gasp of encouragement, his eyes twitching behind his lids. He wasn’t demanding and John silently praised him for it. This was his first time too.

John’s hand continued further, combing through more fur before touching something soft and hot. Arthur twitched as John’s wrist angled down, unzipping more of his pants.

He didn’t know where to start, if he was making Arthur uncomfortable.

“Is this…okay?” John asked against Arthur’s lips.

Arthur nodded softly, his free hand shifting his pants further down his hips. John took shy grip around Arthur’s length, gave it a tender stroke.

Arthur lost his breath, back arching in. John was encouraged deep down, the coals burning bright red within him. He stroked again and again until he developed a pattern.

Arthur began to crumble against him, returning his lips to John’s neck and whimpering words of praise. John glanced down at their act, his hand shuffling in the darkness though Arthur was now free to the breeze.

A growl of interest grew in John’s chest; John was bombarded with a new scent after a minute, one that seemed directly pulled from Arthur’s scent itself. It was sweeter though; John could taste it in the air.

Arthur folded a hand back, sat on it while he licked and nibbled at John’s skin. John felt himself ready to explode; if he even attempted to adjust himself, he’d never make it far.

“John, right there,” Arthur mewled, the softest he’d ever heard his voice. It was begging and lilt-like; John felt his chest puff up at the words.

John stroked until Arthur’s dick twitched; he dragged his fingers over his tip before Arthur gripped at his wrist and pulled him away as he came. Arthur’s teeth grazed down to John’s shoulder, chittered there while he moaned into John’s shirt before he collapsed back in his seat.

John couldn’t pull his eyes away from Arthur now, his roommate-turned-boyfriend writhing in the driver’s seat. He’d done it to him too.

Arthur’s face was flush, his demeanor shaken and uneven. John didn’t know why but he wanted to kiss Arthur even more now.

He leaned forward, grabbed onto Arthur’s shirt and pulled him into another kiss. John smirked against Arthur’s lips.

“You like me still?” John whispered.

“I like you more now,” Arthur responded in a breath.

After the double feature, John offered to drive them back. It was past midnight and Arthur was fighting to stay awake in the passenger seat.

“Midnight snack at the Horseshoe?” John asked, looking over to see Arthur with his arm folded and propped on the windowsill fast asleep. “Guess not.”

Arthur’s other hand was rested on the console, palm upright, and John decided to take it. He rested his hand on top, threaded his fingers through and continued driving in silence.

When they returned to campus, John retracted his hand and parked then carefully shook Arthur awake. “Come on bud, let’s go to bed.”

Arthur breezily hummed, his shut eyes squeezing before opening and looking around. He sat up.

“Thanks for tonight, it was a lot of fun,” John said, shutting off the car.

“Yeah,” Arthur began, combing his hair back with his fingers. “It was.”

John exhaled shakily. “Maybe…we could do that again sometime.”

Arthur nodded. “Definitely.”

John felt the embarrassing silence weigh on him. It was like any other date he’d never been on; now he was worried if they’d kiss at the end even though they did more at the drive-in.

Thankfully, Arthur took the silence to hold his hand out for Charles’s keys then open his door. John followed his lead and shut his door behind him, making sure he had his phone and wallet.

They walked inside and to the elevator, keeping their normal roommate distance between each other. As the elevator lurched up, John could hear the call of bed now blooming at the small of his back.

The silver doors slid open on their floor and John rummaged through his pocket for his keys as they walked to the end of the hall. The weight returned, remembering this particular scene in movies. How was it different if they lived in the same room?

He opened the door to their dark room, the hallway light flooding in past the doorway. Arthur rested his hand on John’s shoulders then brushed it down his arm before pulling John inside.

“Why’re you so tense? We live together.” Arthur smirked as John shut the door behind them.

John shook his head, he didn’t know. But like John hadn’t seen his roommate at his most vulnerable before, Arthur was exuding confidence again. His hands snaked up to John’s hips and pulled him into a soft peck.

“You’re good, John. It was a good date,” Arthur said lowly.

John agreed inside though he couldn’t move his head again. The moonlight seeped in through their blinds, making the darkness less so. John could make out the shapes of their furniture as they stood just beside Arthur’s dresser.

Arthur’s lips found John’s neck, once again making him crumble slightly to the warmth that crawled down his back. His eyes lulled at the way Arthur’s lips trailed over his skin; his fingers softly pinched at the fabric of Arthur’s shirt, not wanting to make any sudden movements lest he wanted Arthur to pull away.

He did anyway, lips parted in a smile. “I’m gonna get ready for bed, okay?”

“Okay,” John muttered, frozen still and already reminiscing Arthur’s mouth on his neck and shoulder.

Arthur moved around John, to the bathroom, and turned on the light. He stripped off his henley in the doorway, with John looking over his shoulder to catch Arthur’s reflection in the mirror.

His lips were slightly swollen, sucked pink. His face was beginning to flush in the same shade, all the way down to his chest. Arthur set his shirt on the counter and stared in the mirror, his eyes meeting John’s hidden stare in the darkness.

With a smile and a soft wave, Arthur shut the door behind him. John sat heavily on his bed in the darkness, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

He rubbed his palms to his face, the night’s events flashing in waves until the culmination unfolded. John smirked at himself; he made another boy come. He made an omega come.

What was something he’d never thought of before. And the thought didn’t deter him, either. In fact, it aroused him. John dropped a hand to adjust himself in his pants but wasn’t shocked by the sensitivity there.

He was close, still. John spared a dryly amused huff and glanced in the direction of the bathroom as the shower started. He had five minutes at the very least.

In his mind, he rewound the night’s events, started with the necking then the kissing. John’s free hand messily undid his pants, dove in to grab hold of himself. He could once again feel Arthur’s hot breath on his neck, just Arthur so warm against him.

John stroked once, his body twitching in response to it. Arthur smelled so good tonight, especially with the sweetness. He wondered what that was, if his alpha senses were disgustingly honed to Arthur’s…he shook away the thought.

What if that could happen though? If he could smell Arthur before he even came? John dropped his hand from his face at the thought, staring into the darkness as if he could look at himself. He was being stupid. But the thought never pulled him out of it.

Arthur’s skin was surprisingly soft, John thought as he resumed a pace. Not that it wouldn’t be, Arthur took very good care of himself. He was toned and tan, rugged yet minutely manicured.

John liked that. He could remember how Arthur’s voice sounded when they got heavier, the husky rasp that escaped him. John nodded to himself, he liked that a lot too.

He felt himself gaining speed, feeling the jittery butterfly-like feeling yo-yo along his back. John kept on, thinking more about Arthur groaning and panting and spurring him on. Arthur looked good doing that; John felt good doing it to him.

He remembered the hot hardness of Arthur’s dick in his hand, it made John’s mouth water thinking more about it. He gripped himself tighter at that.

Then there was the mewl. John could barely get that thought out fully, Arthur’s voice reduced to a plea sending him over the edge. He stopped in his stroke, leaning forward with a breathless groan as he came.

John pulled his hand free, reached for his laundry basket and grabbed a towel. He cleaned himself up, returned the towel to the bin then rested on his bed with a tired exhale.

Arthur was hot, John would never deny that. And in post-come clarity, John still liked him. It wasn’t even the sexual attraction to Arthur. It was a lot of things about his roommate.

The water stopped in the bathroom and John sat upright to fix his pants back. The door opened, allowing steam to escape and light, too. Arthur emerged, toweling his wet hair. Another towel was wrapped around his waist as he walked to his dresser.

“Bathroom’s free, bud.” He said, opening the top drawer then the second.

“Okay.” John replied, pushing himself to stand and walk to the bathroom.

“Hey, you can toss my dirty clothes out. I’ll pick ‘em up.” Arthur draped his hair towel on his shoulder.

John bent and picked up all of Arthur’s discarded clothes, then walked them out of the bathroom to Arthur’s bin. He stopped, noted the drips of water cascading down Arthur’s face from his hair.

John pressed his lips to the corner of Arthur’s mouth then went back to the bathroom.

“I think you should keep the long-sleeve on, it’s gonna be cold when we leave,” John said, trying to style his hair with hair gel.

With Arthur’s suggestion, John looked up Loki’s hairstyle, which they practically shared, but the fictional character’s hair was more slicked. Arthur let John use some hair gel.

Now John was purposefully combing his fingers through his hair, minding the sleeves of his costume before he figured he’d had it. Then he grabbed his night shirt from the bed and wiped the excess gel on it before disposing it in his laundry basket.

“We’re not walking home.” Arthur added, ducking his head out of the bathroom.

John shrugged. “But how far away will Charles have to park?”

Arthur opened his mouth to retort then nodded and retreated back into the bathroom. “You’re right.”

John muttered to himself, “I know.”

He grabbed his plastic gold headpiece from the dresser and carefully placed it on his head, making sure the elastic band that went around the back was secured. With a quick once over, John stepped up to the doorway of the bathroom.

“What do you think?” John asked, hands held out before he placed his fists on his hips. “Do I look regal? Evil?”

Arthur stopped in brushing his teeth and looked at John, doing a double take before pulling his toothbrush from his mouth. He set it down on the counter, spit the foam from his mouth and leaned in the doorway.

“You look good, John. Shame I can’t kiss you while we’re out.” Arthur said, folding his arms before his chest. “I’d want to stake a claim on you.”

John’s chest puffed, angling his chin up. “Is that so? Well come on, then. One for the road.” He dropped his hands as Arthur approached.

Arthur’s hands went to John’s cheeks, running them up and back until his thumbs stopped before his ears. John’s hands went for Arthur’s waist, his belt adorned with a foam Mjolnir. Their lips met and Arthur huffed in amusement.

“Your hair looks good like that,” Arthur said, pulling away.

“Damn right it does.” John grinned. He tapped his hand on Arthur’s thigh then stepped out of his hold. “Finish up. Charles will be here soon.”

Arthur returned to the bathroom, picked up his toothbrush again and finished up. John sat down on the edge of his bed and put on his boots, tucking his leggings underneath.

Arthur went to the door after he heard a knock. He stepped aside to let Charles inside.

“What do you think?” Charles asked, adjusting his own headpiece.

John gave Charles a thumbs-up, tying up his boots. Arthur rested his hand on Charles’s shoulder.

“It looks good.”

“Thanks. See the contacts?”

Arthur nodded. “Do they hurt?”

“Not as much as they did before. You got my keys?” Charles held his hand out.

“Right,” Arthur said, grabbing the keys from his dresser and placing them in his brother’s hand. “Hey, uh, I didn’t clean up your seat last night.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at Arthur, the bag underneath one of his eyes twitched. “What’d you do?”

John raised his brows at their conversation but casually ignored them. Arthur leaned in, lowering his voice for Charles to hear.

“I might’ve slicked on your seat,” Arthur said.

John stopped in his task, stiffening in place. Was that what that smell was? Slick?

“You what?” Charles asked at full volume. “What the hell did you get up to last night?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing, just…I’ll clean it up.” His cheeks were pinched red as he stood upright.

Charles glanced over to John, who spared an innocent grin. He shook his head and turned back out of the room. “Meet me at the car.”

John stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Arthur as they walked through the front door of the frat house. The music filled the floor, the bass from the speakers vibrating the windows. Charles was already making his way through the crowd, getting into the music on his way to get a drink.

“Is he gonna shut this place down if he finds alcohol?” John asked, raising his voice for Arthur to hear him.

Arthur grinned. “I don’t think so. If anything, he’ll just make sure we don’t drink.”

John nodded, stepping into the stagnant crowd with Arthur. He looked around, unsure of where to go first. With another glance around, he’d lost Arthur to the crowd shifting around. The mixture of scents made John’s nose go blind and he raised his head to look over the crowd again to find Arthur.

He felt a hand grab onto his and he looked down then up to see it wasn’t Arthur’s. His eyes met with a girl’s behind a cat mask. Her hair was tightly coiled with a tiger cat ear headband.

“Hi! Would you like to dance?” She asked, her voice raised.

“What’s your name?” John asked in return, leaning in to hear her answer.

“I’m Tilly! Would you like to dance?” Her hand tugged John in the direction of the living room, where the DJ table was stationed.

“I-I don’t…” John began, still pulled in the direction of the dance floor.

Tilly was adamant and John couldn’t pry himself out of her hold. When she stopped, the song was mixed into the next and Tilly raised her free hand with a squeal of excitement.

“I love this song!” She yelled, raising John’s hand over her head and slowly spinning herself into a circle.

Her hips rolled around, her tiger catsuit making the action a bit disorienting. John only stared blankly, unsure of why the strange girl picked him from a crowd. Was she an omega?

He guessed so with how small she was. Her body was petite and her biggest feature was her hair. Tilly faced away from him, draping his arm over her shoulder as she danced a bit closer to him.

John minded the closing distance between them, her backside brushing up against him. He cleared his throat, concaved his back to steer clear of her getting any closer.

“Um…” John tried, backing himself into a wall.

Tilly dropped down low, then slipped herself back up effectively rubbing against John’s crotch. He chuckled mirthlessly, unamused by her actions. The song continued into the next and Tilly threaded her fingers between John’s, swaying her hips to the music before pressing her back to his chest.

“I…have a boyfriend,” John said, raising his voice for only Tilly to hear.

Tilly mused, turning to look John in the face. “Aww, me too!”

John scoffed at her, almost in disbelief, and raised his head to search the crowd for Arthur or even Charles at this point.

“I should go find him,” John added, side-stepping from the stranger. Tilly pouted, her other hand now holding John’s wrist.

“But I love this song! Come on, one more!” She said.

John shook his head and, with deep exhale, snatched his hand away then disappeared into the crowd.

“Arthur!” John shouted over the heads of strangers, wading out of the living room and into the room across the foyer. The costumes of others fused together, a wide mirage of color fading around him. “Arthur!”

He managed to get into the kitchen next, with Charles sitting on the countertop and talking to a girl sat next to him. “Charles, where’s Arthur?”

Charles raised his head, pointed in the direction of the foyer and John groaned. He pushed his way through to the foyer again, already sick of being here.

“Arthur?” John called out a third time, stopping in the crowd and looking around him.

On the staircase, Arthur bent over the railing. “John!”

John pushed forward then around the stair banister and up the crowded stairs to meet up with Arthur. “Where were you?”

“I was trying to find you.” Arthur leaned in to speak and John heard him crystal clear. “Where were you?”

“This girl tried to dance with me,” John said, thumbing over his shoulder in the direction of the dance floor.

“Do you wanna dance?” Arthur asked, combing his hair behind his ear.

John shook his head, his eyes darting wildly over Arthur’s costume. “Do you?”

Arthur huffed. “I think I got a better idea!” He nodded down the stairs behind John.

John turned and descended the steps, this time Arthur grabbing hold of his hand. Arthur led the way to the dining room, then down the dark hallway they’d escaped out of once before.

It felt too long ago since that’d happened. Arthur tentatively knocked at the door at the end of the empty hallway. With no response, he pushed the door open to find it unoccupied.

John’s eyes widened, surprised and stepped inside with Arthur; he pressed his back to the door until it closed, finding the lock on the doorknob and clicking it.

Arthur turned and smiled at him, cut the distance and kissed John. John hummed, his hands going for Arthur’s waist and pulling him impossibly close.

Arthur hissed as he pulled back, then returned his lips to John’s. John’s hands snaked down Arthur’s thighs, curling his hands in to grip them.

“John, wha-wait,” Arthur began, but John already braced his stance.

He carefully lifted Arthur, took a few stumbling steps before gaining his new balance and walking them to the couch. John sat down carefully with Arthur’s thighs clamped over his waist.

“Where did that come from?” Arthur asked in a breath as John’s hands roamed down the back of Arthur’s costume.

John shook his head, he didn’t know. He was acting too quickly without thinking of his actions. He tilted his head back to accommodate Arthur’s incoming lips, finding the meet of Arthur’s top and pants.

“Are you…” John gulped, opening his eyes to look at Arthur. The question lodged itself in his throat as he made out Arthur’s features in the pure darkness. “Are you slick?”

Arthur hummed in response, his hand going back to pull his pants down. His hand clasped over John’s, guided his fingers along the curve of his ass before John felt a wetness.

His eyes widened, straightening up and trying to look over Arthur’s shoulder. A sick intrigue quickly replaced nervousness; he looked at Arthur as he rested his forehead on John’s shoulder.

“Is this okay?” John asked, pulling his fingers back to touch at the tacky liquid. “We can stop.”

Arthur shook his head, his free hand grabbing onto John’s costume jacket. “No, keep going.”

Arthur’s hand guided John further, until John touched at a muscly pucker between Arthur’s cheeks. Arthur tried to huff in amusement, but it came out as a pant.

John looked to Arthur again as his middle finger circled the hole. “We can stop, Arthur.”

Arthur raised up, resting his forehead to John’s as his breath picked up on John’s lips. “I don’t want to. K-keep going.”

John’s tongue prodded between his lips, inhaling the scent of slick in the air. He gently tapped his finger at Arthur’s slickened hole, slowly pushing in with Arthur losing his breath as his face scrunched.

“Do you like that?” John asked, shifting his thighs to adjust himself. Arthur slowly ground on his lap, letting John know that he was hard.

“Y-yeah.” Arthur nodded, his hand going to grip the back of John’s neck. “Don’t stop.”

John continued to push in, his finger sinking in before slicking back out. “You like when I touch you.”

Arthur nodded again, his nose nudging against John’s. “I like you. I want you.”

John wanted the same. It was quick with them; he didn’t know what to think of it. Were others this way? Kissing was one thing, but now John was exploring more.

Were they trying to catch up on something they’d missed out on? John didn’t feel that way. It was new and exciting, the electricity sparked between them every time they were near each other.

This didn’t feel like an experiment. It just felt good.

John’s finger pushed back in, curving against one of the soft walls. Arthur keened as John felt at a ridge.

“I want you too,” John muttered, catching Arthur’s lips in a kiss. His finger tapped at the ridge, noted how it made Arthur tense up on his lap.

John stopped, slipping back out and pulling away. He opened his eyes to Arthur’s scrunched face, his lips parted with another few short pants.

Even though the moment didn’t call for it, John didn’t want this to end. He liked how Arthur made him feel, how Arthur laughed and smiled at him. He liked Arthur being around him, omega or not, because Arthur was so genuine with him.

John didn’t know if rushing things would ruin that, if Arthur would get bored with him quickly and leave him. He wondered if Arthur felt that way.

Would the thrill ever go away? John hoped not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorki shippers come get y'alls juice?


	15. I'll Get Even

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halloween Party continues. 
> 
> Arthur and John continue to get closer. 
> 
> Someone has to go back to the Room.

John's finger traced up the curve of Arthur's ass and back down, swirling two fingers before Arthur's hole. 

"You're really wet," John said, earning a slightly amused scoff from his boyfriend. 

Arthur ground against him a second time, causing John to seethe and straighten up. He placed his hands-on Arthur's waist, shifted him back on his lap. 

"I-I got an idea," he whispered against Arthur's lips. 

"I'm all ears," Arthur replied, his fingers tangling in the nape of John's hair. 

John thought about it, his eyes darting down mapping Arthur's body in the darkness. He drew in his bottom lip, retracting his hands from Arthur and resting them at his leggings waistband. 

"Pull 'em down," John demanded softly. "Underwear too." 

Arthur teased his lips before John's, his free hand tugging his pants down further. "Funny how you thought I'd wear boxers under this." 

John gulped, his heart racing at Arthur admitting such a thing. The coals in his gut were alive with fire now and he was sure he'd pop a knot if he thought too much about Arthur getting slick freely. The disgusting thought of mounting Arthur as soon as he smelled slick crossed his mind and he shook it away. 

Arthur's cock flopped free from his pants, hard and twitching. John managed to wiggle his leggings down his thighs, his dick springing from under his briefs. 

Though John couldn't see much of them, he imagined the sight. Arthur's hand from his pants touched at John's waist, causing him to freeze. 

"Bud, relax," Arthur said, his tentative fingers tracing along John's waist before wading through his pubic fur. 

John stopped breathing, his chest puffed with a breath he was nervous to exhale. He feared he'd scare Arthur away. 

Arthur's fingers curved along the underside of John's dick, his thumb brushed over his tip. 

"Fuck," John choked out, going cross-eyed looking at Arthur. 

Arthur smiled against John's lips, released a shaky breath. He gave John a stroke, with John's shoulders crumbling as he leaned forward into Arthur. 

"You look like you're about to bust," Arthur whispered. 

John shook his head, taking his slickened hand and finding the base of Arthur's cock. His other hand pulled Arthur closer on his lap; his thumb curled around his dick and pressed them both together. 

Arthur uttered a shuddering noise, one surprised and pleased. John tried at a stroke when Arthur rested his hand on his shoulder to stabilize himself. 

"You're one to talk," John retorted, trying to catch his breath with another stroke. 

This was a new feeling. Arthur's cock twitched against him, the hot skin of both of them driving John figuratively up a wall. He couldn't bring himself to move his hand quickly, only taking his time while Arthur writhed against him. 

Arthur offered a few bucks into John's hand, rubbing against John's tip as pre-cum beaded from his tip. John's other hand snaked around Arthur's waist and dove down to finger him. Arthur threw his head back, his thighs clenching against John's lap. 

"Is that too much?" John asked, pulling his hand back. 

Arthur shook his head harshly, his tongue poking out between his lips and lapping at the air. "N-no, keep going, John." 

John's eyes trailed down Arthur's body, tracking the shadow movement. From his elongated neck to his chest then down to his twitching cock in his hand. He slipped a middle finger back into Arthur, curled it up to find the ridge again. 

Arthur's grip on his shoulder tightened, his other going back to John's nape. Arthur's pants picked up, quietly begging for John to continue. John accommodated, leaning up to kiss Arthur's neck then cheek before meeting his lips. 

He tried to stroke and tap his finger in tandem, falling out of sync as the sensitivity of John's own dick grew. Arthur crumbled into him, molded against him before pulling away from their kiss with a low keen. John felt it, Arthur twitching harder against him and the slick coming out in gushes. 

John paused on his stroke, focusing on tapping at the ridge inside Arthur. 

"Fuck fuck, right there, John. Right..." Arthur's voice came out desperate, pleading. John followed on, nodding to Arthur's suggestion. 

John brought his hand up, clasping over both of their tips as Arthur seized, pulling away with a loud moan. His eyes widened as Arthur came in his hand, umbrella-ing over both of them. John returned the favor with a choking exhale. 

Arthur's arms curled around John's shoulders, collapsing against him. John rested his forehead to Arthur's shoulder, reveling in the ecstasy of their moment. 

He turned, pressed his lips to Arthur's shoulder then up to his jaw. John couldn’t find words to say, catching his breath and feeling Arthur do the same.

He felt Arthur’s fingers twitch on his jacket; John nudged his nose to raise Arthur’s head, catch his lips in another kiss. He remembered his finger inside Arthur and slowly pulled out, making Arthur whimper.

“Sorry,” John muttered, setting his hand on Arthur’s ass with a gentle circular pet. “Did that hurt?”

Arthur shook his head, lolled his head on John’s shoulder with a tired huff. “I’m ready to fall asleep now.”

John angled his head, catching onto Arthur’s profile in the darkness. He smirked. “We should get back to the party.”

Arthur snorted, resting his chin on John’s shoulder. “With your cum-filled hand?”

John’s face contorted in slight disgust, remembering his now sticky hand. “We should clean up.”

Arthur agreed, shifting out of John’s hold and righting his pants. He grimaced as he tucked himself back in, wiggling on John’s lap at the slick sticking to the fabric.

“You made a mess, bud,” Arthur joked, pulling himself off of John and into the seat next to him.

John did his best tugging his leggings back up to his waist, righting himself in his briefs, with one hand. He struggled with the thought of what to do next.

Arthur stood up, went to find a light and searched the room for something to help with. He found a box of tissues on the entertainment stand at the front of the room and yanked a few out before rushing to place them in John’s dirty hand.

“You started it,” John quipped, shifting to sit upright in the crack of the couch.

While Arthur gathered their mess in one hand, John could finally see the glisten of slick on his other.

“Holy shit, you were really slick.” John added mindlessly, cutting his eyes over to his boyfriend.

Arthur tried his best to hide the incoming redness of his face, gathering the soiled tissues and tossing them in a nearby wastebin. “Shut up.”

John grinned as Arthur got up a second time and returned with more tissues, making sure to make John’s palm as dry as possible. When he wasn’t looking, John brought his slickened hand up to his mouth and flicked his tongue at his knuckle.

The taste was electric on his tongue, sweet and livening. He casually wiped his hand on his leggings then cleared his throat and combed his gelled hair back.

“It’s hot, don’t get embarrassed,” John tried as Arthur tossed the second round of tissues in the bin. He reached out, his hand bracing Arthur’s thigh with a pucker of his lips.

Arthur hid a cut of his eyes and leaned in with a peck then stood up; he grabbed John’s wrist and pulled him to stand then righted his boyfriend’s jacket.

“You better wash your hands,” Arthur said, his hands reaching to fold up John’s waistband. He tapped the front of John’s headpiece to right it then huffed in amusement.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” John asked, adjusting Arthur’s cape.

“Nice try.” Arthur smiled, giving John another kiss.

Arthur went to the door and unlocked it, opening it a crack to make sure nobody was around. He nodded for John to go through first, then followed and shut off the light before closing the door behind him.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Bathroom’s upstairs, like the first door on the left,” Arthur said, walking with John back out to the main foyer. “Do you want something?”

John shook his head, wading through the crowd once again before rounding the stair bannister and walking up. He pushed his way through the stagnant people on the steps, minding his hands, then stopped at the second floor.

He went to the door Arthur guided him to only to realize that the people waiting on the stairs were part of a line. John groaned and doubled back down the stairs, making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink.

“Is there still a line?” Arthur asked, ladling punch into his solo cup.

Charles was no longer sitting on the counter and John held his hand out to stop Arthur.

“Have you smelled that?” He asked, leaning in the direction of Arthur’s cup and scrunching his nose at the bite of alcohol.

“A little bit won’t hurt, bud, we’re in college.” Arthur added, bringing the cup to his lips and sipping.

John returned to the sink, flipped the handle up and put a dab of dish soap in his hand. “Don’t get sick, okay? And don’t go far.”

Arthur hummed at the rim of his plastic cup, his free hand reaching out to hook onto John’s waistband. “Please. I’m not leaving your side. I’m hoping you’ll take me home.”

John lathered his hands in soap, ran them under the water, as he raised his head to look at Arthur. “You got it, babe.”

“I like that,” Arthur muttered lowly. “Keep that.”

John rinsed his hands and shut off the water before turning his back to the counter. “I’ll keep it then.” He looked around the rest of the party, the amount of people standing shoulder-to-shoulder was itching to say the least. “Where’s Charles? Do you think he’s okay?”

Arthur took another drink of his cup. “Do you think we should go look for him?”

John nodded, reaching for the cup as Arthur tilted his head back to get the last few drops. “Yes. Alright, you drank that way too smoothly. Bad sign.” John grabbed onto Arthur’s hand, threaded his fingers through. “Let’s go looking, huh?”

They waded back into the chaos of people, looked in the room opposite the kitchen then up the staircase. In the living room, the area was cleared for dancing but there was nobody on the dance floor.

“Charles!” John shouted, making his way through the crowd to stand at the front of the clearing. Arthur held tight onto his hand, stopping just behind him.

Charles was being held, by his jacket, up by two alphas. John tried to place the strangers before Arthur broke away from him and rushed at the nearest alpha’s body.

Then it clicked; John dove into the altercation as well, pulling Arthur up from tackling the alpha. They were the same ones from the bonfire.

“Holy shit, it’s the puddycat.” The first alpha, holding Charles up, added. He dropped Arthur’s brother to the floor, with Charles landing on his ass.

“And his omega,” the second alpha said, lifting up on his elbows.

“We should go,” John began, hand reaching out to pick Charles up while his eyes never left the two strangers.

“Yeah, we should,” Charles said with a strain.

The first alpha grabbed Charles’s shoulder and shoved him back down, stepped up to John and towered over him. “And ruin the party?”

John flared his nostrils, rolled his shoulders back against his threat. “Don’t worry, you already did that.”

Arthur stepped up behind John, mimicked his action as the second alpha stood back up. John’s extended hand was caught by Charles and he stood, shifting behind John.

The first alpha scoffed, scanning the two boys behind John before looking back at him. “You got omegas for backup? How pathetic are you, puddycat?”

John inhaled deeply, baring his teeth in a snarl. The more he stared down the stranger before him, the more John was fueled to tear him down. Arthur had initiated it twice now, taking down the same alpha in both instances. John spared a wry smirk at that.

“Pathetic, when my boyfriend took your brother down twice now?” John scoffed, stepping up to the first alpha.

John ducked and took the same action Arthur had. He pressed his hands to the alpha’s waist then rushed him to the back wall of the living room. The alpha offered a few jabs to John’s sides before he tripped backwards and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of himself.

“Come on, we should go,” Charles said, starting towards the front door.

“Yeah, come on, bud.” Arthur reached for John’s wrist and pulled off of the first alpha, leading him through the parted crowd and out of the front door.

“What the fuck did you do?” John asked to Charles as they started running in the direction of his car.

“I-I was talking to this girl, an omega. She asked me to dance,” Charles began, patting his pockets for his keys.

John shook his head. “Say no more.” He looked over his shoulder, saw the party pour out to the front yard in hopes of another altercation.

At the car, Charles unlocked it and John climbed in the backseat, Arthur in the passenger. Charles started the car and pulled out of the parking space then geared it in drive and gunned it back to the main road.

John lounged in the backseat, slouched against the back as he brought a foot up to rest on the console. He folded a hand over his face and uttered a scoff, one that grew into a laugh until it was contagious through the cabin.

“Fun party,” John added.

John sat on his bed, laptop to the side, as Arthur rested his head on his lap. They’d been quietly content for an hour, with Arthur sketching and erasing while John asked review questions for their Epsilon Studies aloud.

“Hey,” John said, resting his hand on Arthur’s chest after a long minute of silence. “Can I ask you something?”

Arthur stopped in his sketch, his eyes flicking up to meet John’s. “What’s up, bud?”

John smiled softly; his hand softly scratched at Arthur’s shirt as he glanced down at Arthur’s sketchbook.

“Will you still visit me in the Room?” John asked, the thought was in the back of his mind again. It was coming on three months for him and, if he was doing the math correctly, it was close to Arthur’s check-in time too. “Unless we’re in a room at the same time.”

“Oh god, how will I get on without you?” Arthur added sarcastically, grabbing John’s hand and threading his fingers through it. “If I’m not stuck behind a door, I’ll see you every chance I get.”

John nodded. “You won’t get sick of me, right? I won’t be as down in the dumps as before.”

“I know you’ll be okay. I ain’t ever getting sick of you, bud.”

John stared at Arthur for a long moment.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“We could share the room, right?” John asked, immediately regretting what he just said. That was too big of a step, especially for them. That was danger zone territory.

Who would stop them from going too far? And if they did go far, what would stop John from busting a knot in Arthur? He remembered Strauss mentioning that knots were always unpleasant for omegas; John could safely assume that it’d be torture for an omega that never experienced an alpha.

He shook his head. “Forget I brought it up.”

Arthur shifted to sit up, his arm bracing the bed on the other side of John’s lap. “We’re level-headed enough now, right? I’d share the room with you. We’ll probably just avoid each other since we’re not used to it.”

John furrowed his brows in thought, eyes locked onto Arthur’s deep blue-greens. He shook his head again. “No, I don’t even want to chance it. We could seriously hurt each other.” 

John used his other hand to tap at Arthur’s temple. “That’s the ‘horny’ lying to you. I know you wanna jump me.”

Arthur scoffed, looked away. “Whatever you say, bud. You’re the weakest link here. You ‘bout busted your pants when you touched slick.”

“That’s not fair,” John said with a point at Arthur. “It was the first time. You can’t expect me to be a man of steel all of a sudden.”

Arthur smirked, leaning in. “You’ll work on it, dummy.”

“We cannot share a room, okay? No matter how hot you get, or how much you beg. It’s not gonna happen.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you better make an effort to visit me.”

“Ground rule: in an effort to keep from succumbing to the other’s horny whim, we pack our scented clothes and wear dampeners to visit.”

Arthur’s mouth snarled, his nose scrunched, an overall detest forming on his face. “I hate that ground rule.”

“I do, too. That’s why it works so well.” John glanced at Arthur’s hair. “And you gotta put your hair back. You know how hot you look with that part?”

Arthur spared a single chuckle. “No, tell me.”

John shoved Arthur away playfully; Arthur barely faltered in place, chuckling another time. “Where do you live?” He asked.

Arthur raised his brows in slight surprise. “Okay, was ready for you to worship me some more but…Saint Denis.”

John tried to map out the distance between Saint Denis and Blackwater, both of them three hours away from New Haven. They were on opposite sides though; Saint Denis was south and Blackwater was west.

He wanted to offer a plan to visit Arthur over winter break, then thought about how if they’d still be roommates afterwards or if the school would try to right their mistake. John didn’t want to think about not getting to see Arthur as much over the winter break and then seeing even less of him until they ultimately broke up.

John gulped harshly, his breathing picking up as his eyes darted back and forth to the stationary objects around Arthur. Why’d he even ask? Did Arthur think he was being a stalker now?

“Hey, bud, where’d you go?” Arthur asked, placing his hand on John’s cheek. The signature thumb was against John’s ear, Arthur’s fingers tickling down John’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I, uh, guess I was over thinking.” John tried to smile though it felt crooked on his lips. He struggled to meet Arthur’s eyes now, disappointed in himself for getting too far ahead.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” Arthur said, his thumb brushing along John’s ear. “Best friend first, boyfriend second.”

A lump formed in John’s throat at that. Would they always be best friends if they broke up? Would Arthur resent him? “I…I was thinking of doing something over the winter.”

Arthur beamed, his mouth splitting to reveal his white teeth. “Is that all? I’d love to spend the winter with you.”

“What about your parents? Your family? I’d hate to steal you away from them.” John added.

Arthur scoffed. “Dad likes to spend the winter in his cabin with Mom and Micah goes to see his mom. They won’t miss that I’m gone.”

“What about Charles?”

“What, now you don’t want me to spend winter with you?” Arthur joked.

“No, that’s not it,” John began, closing his eyes and resting his forehead to Arthur’s. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Of what?”

John swayed his head gently, the lump in his throat slowly dissolving. “That you’ll get bored of me over break.”

“Are you kidding?” Arthur asked. John didn’t answer, didn’t move. “You’re kidding, right?” John didn’t make an effort to shrug or deny Arthur’s question.

“John,” Arthur said, grabbing John’s shoulder and raising him up to look at him. “How could you ever think that?”

John shrugged. “Because we haven’t been dating that long.”

Arthur’s brows knitted together. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean anything. I-I feel like we’ve been friend-dating a lot longer. There’s no getting bored of you, of us.”

John scoffed. Arthur’s hand slipped from John’s neck down to grip his chin. “Don’t be stupid, John. I told you I like you. I don’t take that lightly. I actually dislike a lot of people.”

“It’s gonna be weird, sure, but we can make a plan, right? We’re gonna make it through the winter.” Arthur’s smile returned and John mirrored it. “Plus, I’m waiting for the spring semester to dump you.”

John’s eyes widened, his hands going out to shove Arthur again. “That’s not funny. I couldn’t think of having any other roommate.”

Arthur laughed, moving closer to John. “Me either. I already signed up for the dorms in spring.”

“When?”

“The same day we changed majors. I know who I work well with.” Arthur shrugged.

John deadpanned, nodding along to Arthur before saying, “Micah.”

“Fuck you,” Arthur laughed, leaning into John’s shoulder. His mouth made a warm spot on John’s shirt and John grinned.

“I should do that today,” John said, making a mental note to do it on his laptop.

“You should sign up for the Pre-Vet volunteers too,” Arthur said, snapping back up. “I saw a flyer for it the other day on my way to the cafeteria.”

John made a mental note of that too. “You trying to get rid of me?”

Arthur shook his head. “No, I just want you to have fun too, bud. Fun that isn’t centered around me.”

John snapped awake at the choking sweet scent of Arthur. He rolled over, eyes darting wildly over to see Arthur curled under his comforter and shaking.

John pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose then sat up. “Arthur, is your bag packed?”

Arthur slowly revealed his head from under the comforter, his face was fully flushed and damp. His blue-green eyes now obsidian depths. He nodded, clutching his blanket close to his body.

John searched around the room, bent to look under Arthur’s bed and grabbed his bag. When he stood again, Arthur was upright. He’d peeled the comforter from his body and his eyes were trained on John.

“Hey, come on, let’s go.” John held his hand out for Arthur to take, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

Arthur’s clammy hand went out to grab onto John’s hand, shifting to the edge of the bed and putting his feet down. John managed to get Arthur to the door before grabbing his phone.

He opened the door with Arthur crumbling back to the floor. John stopped and put the backpack on his back then bent to pick up Arthur. “Alright bud.”

His shirt slipped from his face as he cradled Arthur against him. With his heel, John nudged the door open as wide as possible and stepped into the hallway. He struggled holding Arthur up for the first step, the second, but by the third he jostled Arthur in his hold and managed down the hallway.

Turning at the end of the hallway, John noted the three white lights and set Arthur on his feet. He patted the side pockets of Arthur’s pack and retrieved his ID card, swiping it at the first door and guiding Arthur inside.

“Fuck,” Arthur said with a groan, his steps slower and shorter. He shuffled into the room, slick trickling down the insides of his thighs before he collapsed to the floor again.

John rushed to pick Arthur up; Arthur’s cheek was pressed to the floor, his eyes fluttering at the revelation of cool against his hot skin.

“Why don’t we get you in a shower?” John suggested, pulling Arthur up to his knees.

Arthur grumbled, his chest rumbling as he pressed his cheek to John’s thigh. He nuzzled his nose along it, rubbing his face before he nudged at John’s flaccid length in his shorts.

“You smell good,” Arthur said with a pant.

John ignored his boyfriend, raising him up to his feet before sitting him down on the bed. He’d been struggling to hold his breath and, every time he spoke, he was losing.

He needed a breath of fresh air, just a little and he’d be back in the room to take care of Arthur. John wasn’t sure how far off he was about his rut, if another whiff would send him past his depths.

“Stay here,” John choked out, going to the door and opening it again to cleanse his airways.

Arthur whimpered, pleadingly grasping at John until he was out of his reach. John returned with the door closing behind him.

“Arthur,” he began, approaching Arthur now reared up on his knees. His face was in the mattress, his thighs quaking.

Arthur was quiet, clawing at his clothes until he got his shirt over his head. John sat down in the couch chair, scooted it up to Arthur’s bed and combed back his hair. He thought of something, reached to rummage through Arthur’s bag and retrieved a washcloth then wet it in the sink.

John returned to his chair, curled his feet up and rested the damp washcloth on Arthur’s head.

“It’s gonna be okay, bud,” John muttered, coaxing Arthur to lie on his stomach. “You want me to get you anything?”

Arthur slowly raised his head at John’s touch, following the combing fingers through his hair. “Your shirt.” Arthur croaked, his throat going dry as his hand reached to grasp at John’s night shirt.

John obliged, shrugging off his shirt and handing it over to Arthur. Arthur shook his head, still reaching out to grab John’s bicep. His panting was evident as he sat up and closed the distance with a kiss.

John pulled back quickly. “No, Arthur.”

Arthur regained himself, his hold kneading at John’s arm while he licked his lips. He leaned in again, his forehead resting against John’s. John struggled to keep a breath, succumbing to an inhale just as Arthur spread his legs over John’s lap.

“Fuck, no.” John tried again, his hands going to push Arthur off of him but starting to shake.

“Again, touch me again,” Arthur said, his hand tugging his shorts down.

“Arthur,” John began with a warning tone. His gut was now ignited and brightening, the smell of slick so thick in the air. The recesses of John’s mind told him to cut loose, but his hands still roamed up Arthur’s thighs and yanked his boyfriend’s shorts down.

Arthur stood, let his shorts fall as John snapped out of the trance enough to think of a nearby solution. He reached over the side of the chair, clawed through Arthur’s clothes tucked into his bag before finding what he was looking for.

John quickly opened the box and pulled free the grey dildo then set it aside as Arthur sat on his lap again.

“John, please, it hurts,” Arthur begged, his hands going for John’s waistband and tugging at them.

“I know, babe, but we can’t,” John said, his hand bracing Arthur’s bare back and causing him to rear up.

John hadn’t even recognized that Arthur was naked now, slick glistening down his thighs and cock twitching to be touched. John groaned at the sight, fighting himself from it.

“Why not?” Arthur asked, towering over John and leaning into him. John’s chin braced the meet of Arthur’s ribs, staring up at his boyfriend from under thick pectorals.

The sun began to creep over the far side of the campus and directly peeked into the window, haloing over Arthur’s brown hair and highlighting his perfect features.

John felt himself wanting to bend a bit more, his own dick twitching the more he stared. He rested his face against Arthur’s hot skin, salty and sweet but knew it was wrong. “No, you’re not in your right mind. Take the toy, Arthur.”

Arthur growled, John felt it rumble through his chest, before plopping down onto John’s lap. “But I want you.”

John knew that; he nodded. “I know, I want you too.” He reached for the toy at his side and slid it up between Arthur’s cheeks.

“You know how bad I want you. I wanna tear you apart right here,” John continued, now fully inhaling Arthur’s intoxicating scent. “I wanna bend you over and-and breed you.”

Arthur’s face scrunched as his hand reached back to touch the toy sliding between his cheeks. “Knot me, John.”

John writhed where he sat, eyes squeezed closed as he truly fought himself. No, he really wouldn’t. Arthur would hate him; the real Arthur would deem him a monster.

John reached to spread one of Arthur’s cheeks, angling the tip of the toy as it caught on Arthur’s hole. John teased a finger at it, feeling the pucker unclench slightly. “Okay, baby, take the knot.”

John slowly inserted the tip of the toy into Arthur; Arthur unraveled instantly, losing his backbone and curling into John.

He rested his head on John’s shoulder, an unruly pant escaping him. “Keep going.”

Arthur’s grasp on John was frantic, trying to grab onto him like he would evaporate into thin air. John eased the toy in a bit further, bringing forth a long-drawn moan from Arthur.

John’s dick jerked in his shorts, looking down Arthur’s elongated back to see the toy sink another inch in his boyfriend. His chest burned with jealousy, the twang he once knew now traveling up his throat and clanging against his uvula.

And the way Arthur was reacting, so eager. John’s other hand crossed over Arthur’s back and tenderly scraped his short nails against his skin.

Arthur moaned again, his body further contorting against John as his dick rubbed up against John’s. John closed his eyes, tried not to think too much about it as he slowly pulled the toy back out, then in again with a dragging pace.

“J-John, deeper,” Arthur whined. That noise being exactly what John wanted and dreaded.

He obliged, sinking the toy deeper in then out, fucking Arthur while biting back his jealousy. It went on for another minute until Arthur finally clenched his nails into John’s bicep and eagerly praised him that he was hitting the spot, he was ready for the knot.

John waited a moment, opening his eyes and looking down Arthur’s back. His hand was drenched in slick, the knot part of the dildo too. “Deep breath, okay? It might hurt.”

Arthur nodded, hiding his face in John’s neck; John tapped the dildo in to the hilt then spread Arthur’s cheek again before working the last bit in.

Arthur cried out, coming on John’s chest as the knot popped past his rim. John growled to himself, his eyes rolling back. Arthur’s teeth tempted over John’s scent gland, never clamping down.

He was happy that Arthur would feel a bit better to rest, but the coals in John’s gut were now a wildfire.

Arthur writhed against John with a content hum and, when he was finished, John retrieved the toy then picked him up and put him back in the bed. John sat on the edge of the bed, unfolding the flat sheet and pulling it up to Arthur’s waist.

John woke up again to Arthur shifting in bed. He’d kicked up his feet on the edge after he showered off and stole an outfit from his boyfriend’s bag, took to napping in the couch chair.

Arthur groaned, turning on his side with his hand going under the flat sheet. “Shit.”

John chuckled mirthlessly, uncrossing his arms and planting his feet on the floor. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

Arthur braced a knee up to his chest with a soft inward suck of his teeth. “Did you knot me?”

John rested his cheek to his balled fist on the arm of the chair. “Yes and no. It was your own toy.”

Arthur raised his head, looking over the pillow to John with a wry smirk. “Did you like the show at least?”

John hid a roll of his eyes. “More than you know. You okay?”

“For now.” Arthur combed his hair back, his smile dropping. “You came back?”

“No, I haven’t left. You put me in rut.” 

Arthur reached a hand out and touched at John’s wrist. “John, I’m sorry. I knew it was bound to happen but I didn’t stop myself.”

John shook his head. “I was too worried about you. I risked it. I was hoping to get you fed before I have to check in.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Arthur said, sitting up slowly. The flat shirt rolled down Arthur’s back, folding itself under his thighs.

John diverted his eyes from Arthur’s naked body, glancing out of the window to the cool autumn day. The sun was mid-sky now, their nap taking away their morning.

“I want to,” he said beyond his knuckles. “I can scent a few of your clothes there and back, and actually stop to grab my bag.”

Arthur hummed, stretching his arms over his head. His muscles flexed, his skin still catching onto the sunlight. John spared a glance at Arthur’s face, his messy hair and sleepy stare, before pushing to his feet.

“I’ll go now, before I get too caught up. Be good while I’m gone.” John added, leaning over to kiss Arthur’s pouty pink lips. “I’ll grab your phone too.”

“Okay bud.”

John did his best to not linger, inhaling a bit more of Arthur’s sweet scent before stepping out of the room. The edge set in after he shut the door, the itchy agitation working itself up John’s back and worming itself directly between his shoulders.

He made it back to their dorm room, grabbing Arthur’s phone with its charger and his own rut bag. John put on shoes and grabbed his wallet then made the trek to the Horseshoe.

When he made it to the diner, John stopped at the counter and hunched over himself. Karen approached him and was immediately deterred by his scent.

“Honey, you look rough,” Karen began.

John shook his head, he already knew. “I gotta get back on campus. I need a to-go order, the usual.” He unfolded his wallet, feeling the sweat start to bead on his forehead.

The coals were an unbridled fire now, the flames licking at John’s insides and making him open his mouth to pant.

“O-okay, I’ll get right on that. Do you want me to call campus security to get you back?” Karen asked, pocketing her notepad and leaning forward to touch John’s forehead.

He flinched away, his eyes squeezing closed. “No. I’ll be fine.”

Karen nodded, put the order in and got John a cup of water. John was focused on the thought of getting back to Arthur, hoping he was still awake and cognizant enough to eat. He’d seen Arthur eat the night before but now he was worrying that his boyfriend would starve himself.

John’s worry was based off of nothing. He knew that it was just him wanting to get back to Arthur before his skin burst into flames. The agitation grew further in his shoulders, stretching itself along his spine and latching onto his lower back.

Karen was back with a brown paper bag, taking the extended bill from John’s hand before he grabbed the bag and rushed out of the restaurant. The urge of thirst was now clawing its way up John’s throat while he ran; he couldn’t stop, knowing that if he did he’d be worse off.

By the time he returned back to Arthur’s room, John was ragged. He knocked, trying to catch his breath with a hand on his knee. His vision was tunneling, feeling his focus hone in on the random speckles in the tile.

When the door opened, John rushed in and was hit with the rushing, cloying scent of Arthur heavy in the air; it was almost seen, the thick cloud enveloping John like Arthur’s warm arms and squeezing him comfortingly.

It felt like a cartoon, John being hoisted on Arthur’s perfume and sat in the chair with the food bag in his lap. The agitation subsided, his breathing picking up hoping to inhale all of sweetness before any other alpha did.

“Hey, you okay?” Arthur asked, grabbing the bag from John’s lap and setting it on his bag.

He sat, rummaged through the bag while sparing glances to John. “John.”

John was slow in response, slumped as far as he could into the chair with a contented groan. He nodded, closing his eyes as his knuckles locked, clawing into the arms of the chair.

“Thank you for lunch,” Arthur added. “But I’m not hungry.”

John opened his eyes, glaring at Arthur. “You have to eat. Just a little before I have to go.”

“Are you gonna be okay by yourself?” Arthur asked, taking a house fry in between his fingers and squishing it.

John nodded again, reaching for the hem of Arthur’s shirt and shrugging it off. He tossed it onto the bed, wiggled his shoulders further into the back of chair. Arthur hummed, quizzically sniffing in the direction of the shirt before putting the assaulted potato in his mouth.

John moved from the couch to the bed, dug into the food bag and squeezed his wrapped patty melt, his stomach churning and his throat closing up. He wasn’t hungry either now, he hadn’t felt it all morning.

The only thing in his stomach was the licking flames, the urge to lean into Arthur’s delectable scent blooming from him like a sporing mushroom. John inched himself a bit closer, knowing the ration was ghosting back in his former place. He wanted his nose firmly on Arthur’s scent gland, directly fueling the scent-turning-taste.

John held his hand out to grasp Arthur’s thigh, mapping the distance he’d have to stomach through before he could smell him and touch him. Why was he tempting himself? He was going to have to leave.

“Arthur,” John whispered, already gained Arthur’s attention by his touch. He leaned in and was met with a timid kiss. John’s hand slipped further down Arthur’s leg, groping the thick muscle of it.

“You gotta go,” Arthur said, barely pulling away. His forehead brushed against John’s, the two of them reveling in each other. “We gotta sweat it out.”

John nodded, agreed, but made no move to get away from Arthur. His other hand grabbed at Arthur’s other thigh, squeezing them with sinful intrigue. To spread them apart and have his face between them was something that was egging him on.

With a grunt, John’s hands slipped around the thighs and squeezed at Arthur’s ass. Arthur breathed out shakily, his hot breath against John’s lips. “We can’t.”

John fought the blazing fire in his gut with a heavy snarl. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of you might not know the absolute t h i r s t but it's there. Sorry for the late update, next update after the holiday!


	16. Cold Lover's Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and John must **ABSOLUTELY MUST** stave off of each other for a week. 
> 
> They've got this in the bag, right?
> 
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should I put a warning here? NSFW
> 
> also
> 
> dirty talk

John woke up before the sunrise, agitation weighing between his shoulders like a hooked-in weight. He regretted how he’d left Arthur the day before, pushing himself off of Arthur like they’d actually act on the deeply embedded carnal itch.

John managed to yank himself out of the room as fast as possible, unlock the room next door then scrape at his skin as soon at the door was locked. It burned him inside, the fire blazoning wildly and lapping at his throat. Finally, the red seeped its way into his vision and John was gone, only a sin-shell wanting something warm to sink into.

He’d battled the first hour, pacing through the agitation and growling until he broke down and found his white box. After that, the red cleared slightly, just enough for him to take a shower, eat his cold food from the Horseshoe.

By the third hour, John took to sitting in the chair, propped up against the wall shared by Arthur’s room. His ear itched, hoping to catch the faint noise of Arthur on the other side.

It was no use though, with each writhe that Arthur let out only fueling the fire in John’s gut more. This was much needed space though. John had to admit to himself. His mind was being clouded by his basic nature attracted to Arthur.

Even now, John took a deep breath starting the cold shower and stepping inside. He rested his forehead to the tiles, let the cool water batter his fever spiked skin. He scrubbed at his skin with the dampener soap, then stepped out and brushed his teeth.

Staring at himself in the mirror, John tried to look past it and through the wall to Arthur hoping that he wasn’t still bedridden. Toothbrush in mouth, John grabbed his phone and texted Arthur to make sure he was okay.

So much for them visiting every day. He tapped his fingers on the sink, brushing his teeth and spitting the foam from his mouth as his eyes bore into the dark screen of his phone.

John would take anything right now, otherwise he’d risk it and march next door. Then he’d never have the willpower to leave.

Arthur texted back. ‘I’m doing shitty, John’.

John couldn’t help the relieved exhale, reaching to scratch at the nape of his neck as he rinsed his toothbrush. He reached for his phone after, ready to text Arthur back.

‘Why couldn’t you just stay?’

John’s throat stung at the question. Arthur knew why, they both knew. It was better to not even risk it. Even if they were careful the first day, John wasn’t sure if they’d be the same now. The hormones were in full swing, tensions felt high.

If John smelled Arthur now, he could barely stop the dark instinct from flashing images then. It wasn’t ideal for either of them, especially with taking it slow. His mind was trying to play catch up for something that John never wanted until now.

He groaned, smirked at the text on his phone before texting Arthur back. ‘Because you’re reckless and I’m stupid. That’s why.’

John sat down on the edge of his bed, rummaging through his bag to grab a pair of sweatpants and a muscle tee. ‘Don’t forget to do Epsilon discussion, okay?’

Arthur took a minute longer to respond, leaving John’s mind to wonder what he was getting up to in that time. He shook his head; it was better to keep those thoughts at bay as long as he could.

John wanted to text Arthur back another time but refrained, stuffing his phone under his pillow for later. He dressed himself and picked at the rest of his day-old food before planting himself before his computer and forcing himself to focus.

He could do it, if only for an hour, then he’d let the rut take back swing for the rest of the day. John rested his fingers on the keyboard, ready to type out his discussion, but he glanced at the time in the lower right corner. It wasn’t even eight, the discussion wouldn’t be open for hours.

No wonder Arthur wasn’t responding back to him, he’d probably fallen back asleep. John groaned to himself, time always had a way to work against him. He slumped into his bed, resting his laptop on the space beside him.

John’s finger hovered over the mousepad, thumb folding in between his teeth. If he had time to spare, he could at least put it to good use. He squeezed his eyes shut. What was up with him? With Abigail he’d never felt so adamant about it.

But with Abigail, it was such a power play. John folded his hand over his face, squeezed at his temples. He told Arthur he wouldn’t do that, or something to that degree. There was no use in comparing alphas to omegas, especially when they hadn’t experienced the other.

John never thought so much about it before. If anything, now that he had the free space to think about it, he dreaded the initiation. A power play, like he thought before. His first time was met with so much growling and dominance, John was almost put off by it altogether.

Abigail was harsh with him, their position moving with the need to be dominant. He remembered how, as an alpha, Abigail wasn’t naturally wet. John shook his shoulders, ridding himself of the thought to shut his laptop.

John tried to occupy his mind with other things before he gave up and grabbed his toy and shut his eyes to succumb to the basic itch of pleasure.

“How you doing in there?” John asked, staring at the ceiling with his phone rested on his chest.

It was the fourth day in the Room. John was tired, of course, but that didn’t stop the carnal flames from reigniting whenever he thought of Arthur. Charles was their passage system for scented clothes and even brought them food from the Horseshoe.

“I’m exhausted. I fell asleep on a knot earlier, now my ass is sore,” Arthur said, moving in the cot of a bed.

John smiled softly. “That’s unfortunate, babe.”

“What about you? How’s your dick?” Arthur asked with a laugh.

John sucked air between his teeth, eyes forcing closed as his dick twitched, like it heard it was being mentioned. “Don’t wake him, he’s chafed.”

Arthur ducked his head to his pillow to chuckle. “Poor fella. You abuse him.”

“I can’t help it. You’d think that with a toy like that, they’d at least give out lube.” John groaned, folding a hand over his crotch to adjust the pain away.

Arthur shifted quickly over the receiver. “You never bought lube? John, you’re gonna break your dick before you ever use it!”

At that, John scoffed out in laughter. “I’ve used it, okay. You’ve seen me use it.”

“Yeah, but not with me. Not all the way yet.” Arthur added before the line going awkwardly silent.

John’s eyes opened, still staring at the ceiling. A part of him had hoped he was just imagining the distance from Arthur. He wanted to see Arthur over him, his chestnut hair curtaining around his face while he gave off a thousand-watt smile.

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it, huh?” John asked, sitting up almost too quickly. “You being a little pervert over there, Arthur?”

He swung his feet to the floor, held his phone in his hand as he looked at the wall that he and Arthur shared.

“No,” Arthur said finally, his voice muffled in the pillow again.

John’s chest swelled, the flames livening again. The grin on his face grew, turned absolutely shit-eating. “You are, aren’t you? Babe…”

He exhaled through pursed lips, shook his head once as the thought of Arthur writhing on the toy knot popped into his mind. Then adding on Arthur whining and moaning out his name, John groaned.

“Shut up.” Arthur added, folding the pillow over the phone.

“It’s hot, Arthur.” John said, bringing his free hand up to fold into his mouth. “What do you think about?”

“We are not having this conversation,” Arthur said, his voice reaching an embarrassed octave. It only made John chuckle.

“Is it good?” John asked, almost giddy. He brought his feet up to rest on the rail of the bed. “Am I good? I’m not rough, am I?”

“Stop talking!” Arthur laughed.

John’s cheeks began to ache from the smiling. “How long have you thought about it?” He wanted to know, wanted to know that there wasn’t something wrong with his own thoughts.

Arthur huffed over the receiver, shifted again. “Maybe like…three weeks.”

“Since we started dating?” John reared up in his bed, folding his legs under him. “You’re kidding! You’re just waiting to hump to dump me?”

Arthur burst outwardly with more laughter. “No, god, never. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“What, sexually attracted to an alpha?” John asked, pulling his thumb from his mouth.

“No, well…yeah. It felt like too much. Like I’m gonna jump you and disgust you for it.”

That John knew too well. The feeling of his gut ready to congeal if he wasn’t close to Arthur. He gulped, his smile falling hard.

“I felt that at the drive-in. I-I didn’t want to put you off with our first date. I didn’t think you’d want to do anything.”

Arthur groaned, rolling onto his back. “But it felt so fucking good when we did. The butterflies were warranted after it. Are we bad for feeling like this?”

John sat down hard, exhaled. “I don’t know. Do you feel bad? Are we moving too fast?”

“I don’t know, I was going to ask you that.”

John stared at his phone, Arthur’s name on the screen. “It feels like…I don’t want to say it.”

Arthur shifted, rolling onto his stomach. “No, bud, say it. I’m not here to judge you or nothing.”

“Like we’re trying to catch up to something we’ve never thought about? Is that wrong to say? It feels wrong. Like, I loved Abi and you loved…her. But now I feel like we’re trying to get back to that level of…intimacy.”

John regretted the words after they left his mouth. Why would he ever express so much of a doubtful thought? He didn’t want Arthur to feel like a rebound.

“But that’s too fast too quickly, I know. I told you I didn’t want to rush you and make you uncomfortable. I really like you, Arthur. I don’t want you to think I’m just—”

“I never…got that far with Mary,” Arthur cut off John’s ramblings. “We were meant to be waitin’ for marriage.”

John felt his organs turn to stone and sink through his body to the floor. “Arthur, I was the first one to jerk you off?” He cleared his throat. “I’m honored.”

The silence grew into a low snickering until Arthur laughed. “I’m glad you are. You did a good job.”

John nodded. “What can I say? I know the hardware, mostly.”

“Please, stop talking. You’re being cute and dumb at the same time, it’s confusing.” Arthur added before his laughter trailed off. “But I understand how you feel. Will you still like me tomorrow?”

“Of course,” John said.

He’d tried not to think about Arthur that way but when he did and woke up the next morning, nothing changed. John wasn’t disgusted by thinking of Arthur, he just wanted more of him.

“Will you?”

“You don’t even have to ask, bud.” Arthur added, moving another time. He folded the pillow under his chin and cleared his throat. “So…you wanna hear it?”

John started to smile again, lounging onto his side and setting his phone before him. “Am I allowed to add input? Can I get turned on with this? Should I grab my toy?”

Arthur groaned out with a cringe. “Don’t ruin it. Just…listen.”

“Alright,” John said. “Tell me. What’s your f-f-fantasy?” He sang out the last bit.

“I will hang up on you!” Arthur snorted.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” John hummed, stomached the rest of his jokes until after. He hoped he’d be able to remember everything. His heart was racing. This felt better than sex alone. “Go ahead.”

“Okay,” Arthur began, exhaling deeply. “We’re in our room, in bed. And, uh, I just grind into your waist until we start dry-humping…”

Arthur’s voice became choked, forcing the words out before he was muffled with a groan into his pillow. John’s eyebrow shot up, the thought never having crossed his mind before.

“And it feels good until it doesn’t give me that warmth in my stomach the same, then I pull my shorts down and you…it’s searing and hits just right.” Arthur shook his head, catching his breath from starting in a pant.

John was wrestling with his waistband, trying to fight the fire that was making him twitch. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, steadied his breath. “God, you’re hot.”

Arthur spared a huff over the phone. “I told you mine, now it’s your turn. Spill it, pervert.”

John squeezed his eyes shut again. “No. I-I hate mine.”

“Why?”

“Just…because.”

“Come on, John. Just tell me.” Arthur exhaled.

John brought his hand up, ran his fingers through his hair and rested on his back. He brought his phone up to his chest and thought for a long moment before parting his dry lips.

“You’re…sitting on my face and your thighs are squeezing at my ears, I feel the muscles clenching around my cheeks and you’re sweaty, drenching my chin while you try to come.”

John swallowed a hard lump in his throat at the silence accompanied by his answer. He knew it was too much, he knew he’d have gotten too wrapped up and this was push that would make Arthur pull away.

“Holy shit, bud.” Arthur managed to say, no longer hiding the pant in his voice. “I want you to come over.”

John grit his teeth, reared his head back to look over the headboard, back at the wall that he and Arthur shared. “I want to come over, but I can’t. We can’t. I don’t know if I can stop myself another time.”

He knew that he’d be able to stop himself, it was better to retroactively put an end to the discussion before he and Arthur figured how far was too far. It was less of the thought of second base with Arthur, but more of seeing his face and wanting to shove his tongue down Arthur’s throat.

“I mean, what do you even look like anymore? Have you gone gray? What year is it?” John quipped.

Arthur huffed, a mirthless breath escaping his lips and wafting over the receiver. “I’m gonna open the door for ten minutes. You can either come over and see me or wait. Up to you, bud.”

John sat up at that, looked at the time on his phone. “What if Charles, or someone finds out?”

“Nine minutes.” Arthur added.

John scrambled off of his bed, tripping over his shoes before grabbing one to prop the door open. “What about my room? How the hell will I be able to get back in? Should I bring my ID card?”

“Eight minutes.”

“Your minutes are way off.” John added, wedging his sneaker into his room door then sliding out of it. “I’m coming over to check it.”

“Uh-huh, that’s why.”

John noted the cracked open door of Arthur’s room, the scent of heat trickling into the hallway. “You know, you leaving the door open is dangerous. Bad alphas could probably smell you.”

He pushed the door open and shut it behind him, his back to it. Arthur was sitting on his bed, still wet from a shower, in his boxers. John managed to end the call and put his phone in his pocket.

“H-hey babe,” John said, arm folded behind his back. He’d stopped breathing, as habitual as it came to be.

“You look just as rough as I last saw you,” Arthur said, planting a foot to the bed and raising his knee. He folded his arms over top, leaned against his kneecap and stared at John.

If they didn’t make a move towards each other, there was nothing to worry about. John stared, took in all he could about Arthur in the last four days he’d been without him. He was still just as beautiful, the shadow of his stubble lining his cheeks.

“Wish I could say the same. Did you get prettier? Something with your hair?” John asked, noting the wet combed-back style of Arthur brown hair.

Arthur smiled, making John’s heart leap to his throat. His pearly teeth gleaming against his peachy cheeks. John stood still, his fist clenching against the door.

“You gonna move over here?” Arthur asked with a nod. “I ain’t gonna bite.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” John said, scooting a foot forward wearily. He exhaled a bit, moved from the door to stand further in the room.

“Come on, John. Let’s watch a movie, huh?” Arthur patted the free space of his bed, scooting to the wall and grabbing his laptop.

John’s brows furrowed, wondering if this was the same Arthur that he’d just gotten off the phone with. It felt so baited, like he was coaxed over and Arthur now saw his true nature. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as Arthur flipped open his laptop.

“We can watch one of your spy movies, that okay?” Arthur asked.

John nodded, released a bit more of trapped air. The flames began to lick up his insides, making him want to scratch the carnal itch again.

“Alright,” Arthur said, maneuvering his couch chair to accommodate his laptop. “Now we can both watch.”

John looked at Arthur from the corner of his eye, pushing back into the bed. He kept a short amount of sheet between them. He’d just been talking about it, thinking about it, but now in front of Arthur it felt awkward again.

As the opening credits started, Arthur cut the distance with his lips pressed to John’s neck. John froze, eyes fluttering at the feeling. It felt new again, with Arthur’s hand clamping over his and leaning into him.

John choked on his last bit of reserved breath, coughing out before inhaling all of Arthur’s tauntingly sweet smell-turned-taste. Like dewy beads, it was on John’s tongue tempting him further.

“Fuck,” John whispered, turning to catch Arthur’s lips in a kiss.

He clambered on top of Arthur, folding him down to the bed with his tongue slithering its way into his mouth. John’s hands went for Arthur’s thighs, pulled them up so they were crossed behind him.

He instinctively ground his hips along the curve of Arthur’s ass, huffing like a beast and moaning against his boyfriend’s lips. Arthur’s arms curled around John’s neck, brought him in with a raking of his nails through John’s dark hair.

“No, we have to stop,” John tried with a break.

Arthur shook his head. “Keep going, bud. We can stop soon.”

John forfeited, letting the itching fire take the lead. His hands were restless, roaming along Arthur’s lean sides before squeezing at his thick thighs. How badly he wanted to be between them.

He broke away from Arthur’s lips, peppered his boyfriend’s neck with sloppy licking. Arthur’s skin was ablaze, red and searing. John dragged his lips down between Arthur’s pectorals, counted himself damn lucky to do so.

“Arthur.” John breathed against Arthur’s lean stomach, catching himself again. He’d stopped himself from toying with the waistband of Arthur’s boxers, snapping the elastic and pulling them down with his teeth. 

Arthur’s breath was picked up, so much so that John was fearing that he’d hyperventilate. “A little more.”

John smirked, dragging his hands down Arthur’s sides again and grabbing at the waistband of his boxers. “What, after I suck you, we’ll be done?”

Arthur quickly shook his head, a timid smile growing on his lips. “I’m hot, John. I need you.”

John kept on, tugging Arthur’s boxers down and leaving them to dangle off one of his ankles. “You want to feel me?”

Arthur nodded; his eyes fluttered closed as his hand reached out blindly. John gulped, took Arthur’s hand and dragged his heavy fingers over his crotch. His dick had made a tent in his sweatpants and wanted to share. 

“Look at what you’re doing to me. You can’t let me ruin you.” John added, letting Arthur’s hand drop.

Arthur planted his feet on the bed, legs spread to show his hardened cock against his belly and the slick dribbling onto the sheets. “John, please.”

John growled to himself, a hand placed on Arthur’s thigh. “You’re so eager right now…this would be our first time together.”

Arthur reeled at John’s touch, jerking his head as his fingers trailed further up to his waist. “I know.”

“And you still wanna do this? You don’t want to wait for our magical,” John paused with an animalistic growl escaping his throat. “moment?”

“Fuck that, get inside me.” Arthur added, reaching to grab the back of John’s neck again.

John circled a finger at the meatiest part of Arthur’s thigh then trailed his hand south to the source of his boyfriend’s slick. He teased a finger at Arthur’s hole, noticed its flexing in eagerness.

“Babe,” John began, leaning into Arthur’s lips with another low growl. “We haven’t even been together a month yet.”

Arthur’s face scrunched against John’s, his bottom lip jutting in a pout. John tapped his finger in, then another just after to work Arthur to ease. His mouth broke open, hefting hot pants against John’s lips. It was all tempting, a sweat breaking out on John’s neck at all the heat.

John’s other hand went for his sweatpants, tugging them down enough to free his throbbing dick.

“Just say it,” John tried, knowing it was agonizing seeing Arthur so open and ready.

“John, I want you,” Arthur said with a breathy moan as John’s fingers pressed to the ridge inside him.

It felt softer, more pliable. The way that Arthur reacted, it was more sensitive too. Arthur’s toes curled against the sheets, cracking and stretching as his pants grew short and erratic. John pulled his fingers out slowly, leaving Arthur to whine and writhe against the sheets.

“I’m sorry,” John muttered, pecking Arthur’s pouty, wet lips. “Gotta make room.”

Before John thought about it, he stopped. “We don’t have protection.”

Arthur shook his head, eyebrows furrowed and nestling against John’s. “It’s fine, you’re fine. I’m recessive.”

John didn’t have long to think about it, his hand slicking his tip along the curve of Arthur’s ass. “I can pull out too.”

Arthur nodded, pulling John impossibly close. “I trust you.”

John took those words through to his core, so sweet and everything compared to what he was about to do. He gently pressed his tip to Arthur’s hole, earning a choked moan from his boyfriend.

John took the excess slick and rubbed it along his shaft, pushing gently in until his tip popped just past Arthur’s rim.

“Fuck!” Arthur gasped, ducking his head up to John’s neck. His body rolled up against John’s, tilting his hips further to accommodate his boyfriend’s length. “Yes,” he purred, his fingers combing up the back of John’s hair.

The fire in John’s belly was without limits, igniting his whole body and engulfing Arthur in the process. Arthur’s hands clawed to undress John, wrestle his shirt from his chest before using his toes to push John’s sweatpants further down.

“You okay?” John asked, pulling away to look Arthur in the eye.

Arthur’s eyes were heavy, a lusty haze draped over the lake blue irises. He nodded menially, pulling John back close. “Go slow.”

John barely moved, pressing more of his length inside Arthur’s hot, tight walls. He lost his breath halfway through, dropping his head to Arthur’s shoulder. Their skin was already damp with sweat, John’s forearms were shaking from his own weight.

John used his hips to slide the rest of the way in, earning a low moan from Arthur. John stopped, taking in Arthur’s head thrown back into the white sheets, his neck long and glistening with sweat. Prime for marking.

He leaned in, dragged his tongue along Arthur’s skin as he pulled out just as slow. John’s teeth found their way into his skin, suckling and striping Arthur’s pristine neck.

Arthur’s hand found John’s hip, nails clenching into it as John pushed back in. Slick dribble out after him, coating the rest of John’s length again and making a further wet spot on the bed.

John was burning across his back, not wanting to plunge himself deep and pop his knot inside Arthur. Pulling out went against everything in his nature, the flames inside his gut fueling him to breed, to come and keep coming inside of Arthur until his lean stomach swelled.

His mouth swiped over Arthur’s scent glad, lips moistened by the oil secreted. John bared his teeth with another groan, his canines grazing against Arthur’s hot skin.

“You want my knot?” John choked out against Arthur’s ear, hissing at the hot vice of Arthur around his dick.

Arthur mewled, the neediest noise that made a lump in John’s throat yoyo through his body. His face scrunched as he panted out a ‘yes’. John’s brows knitted together in frustration and scrutiny.

“You want me to ruin you, omega virgin?” John couldn’t help himself, gaining the confidence to speak as his hips stuttered to a painstaking halt.

Arthur’s hand clenched at the back of John’s neck, drew him close as his fingers knotted in his dark hair. “John, fuck…keep going.”

John brought his face up, rested his forehead to Arthur’s, sharing sweet panting breaths as his throat went dry. He started again with an unhurried thrust, causing Arthur to tilt his head back again.

“I-I wanna breed you.” John whispered against Arthur’s lips.

His eyes opened, crossed, staring at the pinched look of Arthur’s face. Arthur’s hair clung to his forehead in damp strands; John pecked at Arthur’s parted lips. Arthur nodded softly, his brows and nose scrunched.

His face was flushed red, cheeks damp with sweat.

“Is..that what you want? To get knocked up during your heat? Carry my pups?” John gulped. “Not even think of our consequences?”

John’s dick twitched in response to his own questions, tempting him to explode inside Arthur’s hot walls.

Arthur’s wet lips tempted at a smile, hiding his face to John’s shoulder. John’s heart began to race, leaning himself further to urge Arthur to bite down.

“I’ll bite you, make you mine,” John muttered into Arthur’s ear. John kept up with his dragging pace, causing Arthur to scratch up his back with anticipation.

Arthur writhed on John’s dick, clenching in tandem with a few uneven pants. With another slow thrust in, Arthur’s cock twitched lazily between their bellies, cum coating their skin.

Arthur pulled John into another kiss, giving John enough time to pull out and finish himself off.

John refrained from biting down as he came into his hand, his knot swelling against Arthur’s tight balls. He bit at his bottom lip, coating Arthur’s stomach with cum.

“Shit,” John breathed out, coming on Arthur’s stomach a second, weaker time. “I’m sorry.”

John rolled off of Arthur, next to him. He glanced over to Arthur, saw him already staring at him with a smile.

“What?” John grinned in return, dropping his dick from his hand to flop against his stomach.

Arthur leaned, pressed his lips to John’s shoulder. “You still like me?”

“Absolutely.” John nudged Arthur’s nose with his, catching his lips in a kiss.

“Let me get you a towel,” John said when he broke away, sitting up from the bed.

Arthur swiped his hair back from his face with a deep gulping of air. “Okay.”

John woke up later that night, Arthur snoring in his face next to him. He smirked, pulling the sheet from his waist and climbing over his sleeping boyfriend.

John tiptoed to the shower, ridding his skin of dried sweat and cum then stepped out. He grabbed his clothes from the bed, using his shirt to dry his hair then dropped them to the floor.

He knelt, poked the back of Arthur’s shoulder. “Arthur.”

Arthur hummed, groaned and rolled over, his hand draping over the bed. John moved closer, propping his chin on the edge of the bed. “I like you,” he said in a sing-song tone.

“I like you too, John.” Arthur muttered, hand lazily smacking John’s cheek.

“Good,” John said, standing up and climbing over Arthur again.

He playfully tapped at Arthur’s ass, earning an elbow in his side. “Go to bed.”

Arthur sat up in bed as John rested his body between Arthur’s legs. He crossed his arms, resting his head on them while Arthur’s fingers combed through his hair.

“You’re a whore,” John teased, raising his head to look up at Arthur.

“Shut up,” Arthur said with a grin.

John rolled over, tilted his head up now staring at Arthur over him. “You are though! Oh my gosh, you were so eager.”

Arthur chuckled, his finger purposefully tangling in a strand of John’s hair and tugging. John hissed playfully, his hand swatting at Arthur’s wrist.

“You talk to Abi like that? That was fucking dirty,” Arthur said, untangling his finger.

“I’m sorry, did you hate it?” John asked, already knowing the answer.

Arthur folded his lips together, rolling his eyes to look out of the window. John laughed at that, poking his finger to Arthur’s cheek.

“You did. ‘Ugh, I wanna breed you’.” John added, his other hand slipping under the bedsheets to squeeze at Arthur’s waist. “You wanna get knocked up, huh?”

Arthur rested his hand on John’s face like he was a snooze button. “I hate you,” he said, still smiling.

“You like me. You said so.” John pinched at Arthur’s lack of a love handle, earning a soft giggle from his boyfriend.

“I take it back. We’re breaking up now.” Arthur added, swiping his hand down the side of John’s face and leaning over him.

“Damn it. Time of death: Wednesday, 8:43 am. So close to a month. We almost made it.” John pouted.

“I miss you already,” Arthur said, leaning over John to peck his lips upside down. “Take me back.”

John hummed in amusement. “I’ll have to think about it.” He earned another pulling of his hair at that.

He turned on his side, resting his head on Arthur’s plushy thigh. “Wanna go again? Get it out of our system?”

“Now who’s a whore?” Arthur asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“Still you.” John taunted, stifling a yawn. He got another tug at his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John's joke was that Ludacris song "What's Your Fantasy"
> 
> anyways, I'm gonna dive into a volcano


	17. Falling For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has it been mentioned that John and Arthur just work well together? 
> 
> Arthur makes plans to spend with John at the end of their first semester of college. John begins to feel in some type of way. 
> 
> Arthur also makes a big move towards their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ever heard of Saccharine? 
> 
> Ever felt Saccharine? 
> 
> John has.

John sat in the couch chair, reminiscent to the first day he'd spent with Arthur in the room, as Arthur sat on his lap. He couldn't help himself, telling Arthur about what he felt the day they finally took the plunge.

"I'm sorry, my curiosity has been getting the better of me," John began, uttering word for word the speech he'd practiced in his head. "I...wanna finger you again. Is that okay?"

Arthur snorted immediately, his face going goofy in reaction as he folded his hand over his mouth and nose. "You're asking? How gentlemanly. What, you want a full invitation?"

“I mean, yeah? I’m not gonna start groping you when you don’t want it,” John said, lounging back in the chair, arms propped up. His eyes dragged over Arthur, noted the boxers he was sporting gaining a slow tent. “Then again, seems like you always want it.”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, his hand shoving John’s face away. “Gained some confidence after fucking, how dare you.”

John played it up, puffing his chest and straightening his back. “What can I say, alphas get it done.”

Arthur sneered, draping his arms over John’s and leaning in. “This is not the boy I like. Bring him back.” He hovered before John’s lips but opted to lick his nose.

John hid a roll of his eyes. “Alright, fine. I’m sorry. Baby, babe, Arthur…” He pouted, raising his voice up a pitch.

“Getting there.” Arthur added, finally pecking John’s lips. His hand reached behind him, tugged his boxers down to reveal his ass. “What’re you even curious about?”

John hummed, his hand inching down the arm of the chair then to Arthur’s waist before his fingers slipped down his crack. “You have…I don’t know how to describe it.”

He’d been wracking his mind since he fingered it again, the soft ridge, almost nudge-like bump along Arthur’s inner walls.

“I know what it is, it feels good when you press on it.” Arthur managed to say before John slicked up his fingers and tapped his way inside Arthur’s hole.

Arthur braced his hand on the back of the chair, his eyes focusing hard to not succumb to his boyfriend’s curious, albeit hot and inviting, touch. John did just that, curling his finger to press against the textured ridge against Arthur’s innermost wall.

Arthur’s toes curled, overly blinking as he folded his bottom lip in to not moan. John could barely help the grin on his lips, watching Arthur try his hardest to not get off on what was meant to be ‘clinical’.

He withheld a long drawn ‘s’ sound, wanting swear as John’s second finger worked its way inside. Arthur other’s hand gripped at his crotch, hissing inwardly.

“Bud, you keep pressing like that…” The last word drew out of Arthur’s lips with a groan. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

John’s eyes went wild from the confession, his other hand gripping Arthur’s hip and pulling him closer. “Is that so? So, keep pressing? Or rubbing?”

He started tapping, then sliding over the ridge and past it before drawing out and back again. “Scrub it? Is that it?”

John’s grin went devilish as Arthur wiggled in his hold. He started to whimper, drawing his head back as his hand grabbed John’s wrist and held him inside.

“Aw, baby,” John said with a soft purr. “Right there?”

“Fuck you fuck you,” Arthur repeated as he began to jostle on John’s fingers.

“You are seriously pent up,” John muttered, sitting back to watch Arthur bounce on his fingers until he came. “I was just curious. You’re gonna be a sex addict.”

Arthur exclaimed, coming in his boxers as slick drizzled out onto John’s palm. “I don’t know where that came from.”

He collapsed to John, resting his cheek on his shoulder. John used his clean hand to comb back Arthur’s hair, gave him a peck on the forehead.

“Dirty boy, Arthur. I should’ve known.” John teased, his fingers edging out of him before sliding back in.

Arthur shook his head, groaning at John’s fingers entering him again. John’s brows furrowed, slowing in his touch. It was…different. The clench on his digits felt tighter, Arthur’s walls slicker than before.

“Did you…” Arthur gasped. “find what you were looking for?”

John shook his head, dragging his finger along Arthur’s innermost wall and earning a few inward hisses. Arthur ground a bit on John’s lap, his mouth open against John’s neck as he came again.

“Oh,” John said, stopping in his invasive touch. “Didn’t expect that.”

John slowly slipped his fingers out of Arthur, resting his upturned hand on the arm of the chair. He tried to search his mind of old Sex Ed classes, the explanation of omega anatomy.

“You know what that is,” John said, turning to Arthur, who was quiet and rolling his shoulders to get comfortable. “That ridge.”

Arthur slowly nodded. “I think so.”

“And it felt different the second time?” John asked, raising his hand to rub his thumb over his slickened fingers.

Arthur nodded again. John raised his brows, stared at the glisten of his fingers with his tongue lapping out over his bottom lip. He was tempted to pop them in his mouth, suck them clean, but fought the urge.

“Is it your womb?” John questioned casually, tilting his head over Arthur’s forehead.

Arthur’s fist found its way to John’s ribs, giving him a soft jab in the gut. “You stay away from it, alpha.”

John smirked then, turning his head further to nibble at Arthur’s ear. “You don’t know what I was thinking. You think it’s more sensitive?”

Arthur slowly raised his head, narrowed his eyes at John. “Yeah. You’re not getting it again. First and last time, for a long while. You hear me?” He pointed a finger in John’s face.

John’s eyes crossed, following the tip of Arthur’s finger to the tip of his nose. He looked at Arthur, nodded once. “Out of sight, out of mind. Never happening again.”

“Good.” Arthur added, leaning in to peck John’s lips before climbing off of him. His knees buckled slightly before he gained his balance. “I gotta clean myself up.”

John stood in front of the Lagras Fitness Center, checking his phone for the time. By Arthur’s suggestion, he signed up for the Vet Volunteers program and was surprised when they announced they’d be having a premature meeting for the next semester.

He’d texted Arthur that they would go in town, to New Haven for his version of a second date. He’d even talked to Charles, convinced him to let John borrow the car again.

“You’re a bad influence, John,” Charles had told him, holding his keys on a finger over his desk.

John took it as joking, especially with the half-amused smirk on the stoic Van Der Linde’s face.

“You’re a great brother, Charles.” John took the keys and ran out of the front door to make it in time for the Volunteers meeting.

“We gotta talk about your rut room fiasco soon,” Charles called after his friend but John waved it off and was out of the door.

‘Should I dress up?’ Arthur texted back. John glanced around him, still not seeing anyone else congregated.

‘Please do. This is a fancy place. No funny business. Wear underwear.’ John smirked to himself, sending the message then finding a place to sit on a plant ledge.

‘Dammit.’ Arthur responded.

John smiled fully at his screen, then clicked it dark as he heard someone approach. He looked to his left, saw two girls walking up from the parking lot.

“Excuse me,” John began, standing back up. “Do you know where the Vet Volunteers are meeting?”

One of the girls tilted her head at him, her stare blank and quizzical as the other girl smiled brightly. “Hey, you’re that Loki from the ODL party.”

John quirked a brow at the girl, taking in her face before nodding in acknowledgement. “You’re the tiger girl,” John snapped his fingers twice, trying to remember her name. “Tilly! How are you?”

Tilly tittered softly. “I’m good. How’s that boyfriend of yours?”

John felt his cheeks heat up as he shrugged. “He’s good. We’re, uh, going to dinner after I meet with the Vet Volunteers.”

The other girl tugged at Tilly’s arm, leaning into her ear to whisper something quickly. Tilly nodded at her friend and they both shared a few giggles while John was lost.

“He was Thor, wasn’t he? Your costumes were so cute,” Tilly said.

John nodded slowly. The other girl reached into her hoodie pocket and produced her phone, texting someone as Tilly tried to strike up conversation.

“Uh, thanks. It was his idea. So, the Vet Volunteers,” John attempted to get back on track.

“Right, right. Uh, M.B., you were on your way there, right?” Tilly asked, jostling her friend’s arm locked in hers.

M.B. raised her head from her phone, stopping in mid-text. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was texting Mary. She’s ditching us for Barry again.” She looked from Tilly to John. “Um, we’re supposed to be meeting here but I haven’t seen Kieran yet so it might be cancelled.”

John followed as best as he could through M.B.’s explanation, but he was still stuck on the name she brought up. “I’m sorry, hate to intrude on your last thing. But Mary who?”

“Mary Linton? Is that what her name is?” Tilly asked to M.B., still putting John in the third wheel of their conversation.

“Yeah, she does the OLO/ALA thing? Like this tall, brown hair, really pretty,” M.B. went on, describing her to John as if he didn’t already know her.

John shook his head, nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He hadn’t heard about her in a little over a month, since he’d last tried to compare himself to her.

She was out of his mind after that, Arthur never so much gave him a second to dwell on if Mary would’ve done anything different. John forgot she was Arthur’s past.

But now he was stuck on the name again, even as he was staring at the two girls before him. They both shared a confused look at John, as if he’d spouted something uncouth.

“Here, let me give you Kieran’s number, he can add you to our group text. I’m sure he’s stuck at work anyways.” M.B. looked to her phone again and scrolled through her contact list before showing the contact for ‘Kieran Duffy (Vet V)’.

John pulled free his phone again, copied the number into his contact list then hit the home button. “Well, thanks. I think. Hopefully I’ll see you two around?”

John didn’t hope that, especially if they both knew Mary. The last thing he wanted was for them to relay back that an alpha stole her ex. Then again, maybe John did want that. His shoulders straightened at the deep sense of dominance over the situation then shrugged them down.

“Okay. And have fun at your dinner.” Tilly added as John turned on his heels and started back to the main campus.

Arthur sat across from John in the dimly-lit restaurant. The table was set with a white tablecloth and a fake candle was lit at the center.

“I really missed the mark, huh?” Arthur asked, looking around the quiet dining area decorated in deep burgundy and cream.

John smiled at him from across the table, head in his hand, while he tried to catch Arthur’s flushed concern. He felt stupidly smitten, not seeing anything wrong in Arthur’s attire.

“Maybe a little,” John said, pinching his fingers in the air. “You clean up nice, nonetheless.”

Arthur was wearing an emerald button-down shirt tucked into especially dark blue pants. John didn’t say anything, knowing that it didn’t matter and Arthur looked good in whatever he wore.

“Thanks, bud. But look at you, is that a man-bun?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as if he hadn’t seen John putting his hair up in the style.

“I’m...trying something new,” John said with an assuring nod. It was a bit out of his element, combing his hair half-up.

“I like it, you should wear it like that more often.” Arthur added with a nod, sitting up.

John grinned again, holding his hand out for Arthur to take whenever he felt like it. “How’d you feel about the Econ final?”

Arthur grimaced, tossing his head back as his hand rested in John’s. “Fucking brutal. I can’t believe we even made it through that. Between that and Intro to History, I can kiss the Dean’s List goodbye.”

“You were hoping for Dean’s List?” John asked, stifling an amused scoff.

Arthur returned his head back, shrugged and leaned forward, staring at John rubbing his thumb over his fingers. “Yeah. Dad said he’d consider helping me get a car if I passed first semester above average.”

John sucked air between his teeth. “So, you can stop fooling around in your brother’s backseat? Smart.”

Arthur smirked, ducking his lips to his shoulder as he looked across the lightly crowded dining area. “How’d you feel about Econ?”

John shrugged, slouching in his seat. “Sucked. I know it won’t matter in the long run, but I hate that I might get a ‘C’.”

Arthur nodded, sitting back up in his seat. He glanced behind him, then around the rest of the restaurant. “Are there people working here? I haven’t seen a waiter yet.”

John shook his head, looking around just the same. He reached for his phone on the table, turned it over to check the time.

“Do you wanna get something else?” John asked, seeing Arthur’s light up at the question. “Let’s get out of here.”

John reached to undo the top buttons of her shirt and slid out of the booth, grabbing his wallet and phone. Arthur followed suit and the two of them rushed out of the dining area then the front door before racing to Charles’s car.

“I win,” John said, slamming his hand on the hood of the sedan.

“Bullshit,” Arthur retorted, knee bumped against the headlight.

“You cheated, I got here first.” John unlocked the driver’s side door and climbed inside.

Arthur’s mouth fell open in feigned surprise, rounding the car and jostling at the passenger door handle. “Not true, you’re just mad you’re slower than me. Now let me in.”

John chuckled as Arthur pressed his face to the window, his nose flattening along with his cheeks.

“First, you have to admit I won.”

“Never!” Arthur exclaimed.

John felt himself doing it again, smiling brightly at Arthur for no good reason other than sheer amazement. “Would you settle for a kiss?”

He playfully puckered his lips out at Arthur, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

“If it lets me in the car, sure.”

John reached for the unlock button and Arthur quickly climbed in, slamming the door shut after him. His cold hands immediately went to cradle John’s face, tilting him back to kiss him fully on the lips.

John couldn’t help the hum, the jittery delight he felt with Arthur’s tepid fingers threading through his hair; the eye-rolling comfort John felt when Arthur’s thumbs rubbed before his ears felt symphonic.

When Arthur pulled away, he rested his forehead to John’s. He softly nodded, his lips pursing before he wet them with his tongue.

“I think we both know I won,” he whispered.

John scoffed, shoving Arthur away. “You did not.” He held his hand at Arthur’s shirt, pulled him back for another quick peck. “Call it a tie, you big lug.”

Arthur folded. “Fine, a tie, hon.”

John raised his brows. “That’s new.”

Arthur shrugged casually, his eyes cutting to the ceiling of the car. “Trying something else out, other than ‘bud’.”

John tilted his head side-to-side, practically weighing the new nickname in his mind. “Considering it. Alright, what do we wanna eat?”

His hands went to grip the steering wheel, drumming his thumbs on it as he let Arthur think about it.

“How about tacos?” Arthur suggested. “There was a taco stand up the road, right?”

John nodded. “Yeah, I saw it, let’s go.”

John pulled the car into the gravel parking lot lit up with football stadium lights. They climbed out of the car, walked before the long taco truck parked before a couple of picnic tables.

“Already better than some fancy dinner,” Arthur said, his hand casually going for John’s as they stood before the menu. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort.”

“No, I get it. Went too big too fast. Maybe circle back in a year.” John taunted, glancing over at Arthur staring straightforward.

He wanted to see what Arthur’s reaction to that was. John had said so many outlandish things in the short time they’d been dating, he was hoping that looking towards the future wasn’t taken that way.

“I’d say three.” Arthur added, not peeling his eyes from the chalkboard menu describing their specials.

A lump formed in John’s throat as he thought about that, three years being in the same place with Arthur. He didn’t want to lie to himself, John knew it was ambitious to think that far, but he liked that idea.

“They got a sample platter, bud, for all of their meals. Do you want to share that?” Arthur asked, finally turning to see John staring at him. “What?”

John swallowed harshly at the uneven swell in his throat. “Yeah, that sounds good. Will Charles mind if we eat in the car?”

“Definitely not, it’s chilly out here. We should crank the heat when we get back in.”

John agreed, pulling his hands around Arthur’s and blowing into the literal handmade cavern of them. He rubbed the three together, warming their digits before a slight shiver wore into his shoulders.

Arthur stepped up to the order window, spoke up and pointed at the special on the menu. John stepped up beside him, dropping Arthur’s hand to retrieve his wallet and produce his debit card.

“Officially a broke college student,” John commented, gritting his teeth and shuffling his feet on the gravel.

He chastised himself inside for not grabbing a coat. He’d worn a coat all day, even to the Vet meeting but he’d opted out of it just because it didn’t match the rest of his outfit.

John knew now that Arthur acknowledged the effort, but he was now hoping he’d be able to feel his fingers in the morning.

The cashier returned John’s card with a receipt then pointed for them to pick up their dinner at the second window. Arthur carefully took a step behind John and curled his arms around his shoulders, resting his chin on top of John’s head.

The comfortable silence came back with them standing there, savoring each other’s warmth. This was all John wanted.

“I think that you should come stay with me over winter break,” Arthur began, halfway through a movie that both of them had picked out blindly.

His head was rested on John’s lap, John’s fingers brushing down his locks as Arthur tilted his head and mentioned it so casually.

“I thought your parents were going to the cabin,” John said, remembering back to the first time they had this same conversation.

Arthur rolled onto his back, facing John. He rolled his shoulders, getting comfortable as he draped his arms over his head. “They were going to, but then Dad got pulled into some kind of faculty fundraiser benefit on the night they were supposed to leave so now it’s open for the taking.”

John tried his best to keep his face blank, waiting for the next thing.

“So, I was thinking me and you could go up there instead,” Arthur said, his lips curling in a soft smile.

“Just me and you?”

Arthur nodded, sitting up and turning to John. His hands were on either side of John’s lap as he leaned in. “Yeah, what do you think?”

“Sounds…” John hid a low gulp. “romantic, really. I dunno if that’s what you were going for.”

Arthur nudged his nose to John’s, then traced it up to his ear. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”

John felt his neck get hot from Arthur’s words, he tried to shrug the incoming blush away. “I gotta say, I was expecting more of an awkward ‘sleep on the couch’ first winter together.”

“It’d just be a weekend,” Arthur added, dropping his lips to rest on John’s shoulder.

John could feel the warmth from his boyfriend’s mouth searing into his skin; the exhales from his nose rolling down John’s back. He turned in the direction of Arthur, prodded his temple with his nose.

“A weekend. Then would you like to spend the rest of break with me and my family?” John asked.

Arthur raised his head. “Would I? See Old Boy and Sean and Lenny again?” He pretended to think about it, his eyes brightening. “No.”

“You’re so full of it.” John smirked, leaning in only for Arthur to teasingly back away.

“Yeah, I am. Of course, I want to spend the winter with your family.”

John narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “What’s the catch here?”

“What do you mean?” Arthur quirked his brow at John.

“I’m saying, what’s wrong with you that I haven’t seen yet?” John asked playfully, leaning further into Arthur until his back was to the bed.

John hitched a leg over Arthur’s waist, caged his head in with his hands on either side. He scrunched his nose, gave Arthur a light once over.

“You’re clean, polite, good in bed. What am I not seeing?” John’s eyes narrowed further, a smile curling his lips back to reveal his teeth.

Arthur’s eyes widened slowly, staring at John. “And where has this been? You’re kinda hot right now.”

John raised his hand, pointed in Arthur’s face. “And that! That right there. What’s your kryptonite, Superman?”

Arthur snorted at that, copying John’s smile. “I’m a bed hog? I snore, I hate cats.”

John tried to hold a serious face but continued to fail, his lips quivering back into a grin. “Me too. I’m also a bed hog.”

“And you snore.” Arthur added. “You also do that far-off stare thing when you’re thinking too much. But I like it. Makes you look serious.”

John snarled lightly. “Thank you.” He leaned closer into Arthur’s face. “I’m not through with you though.”

Arthur chuckled, draping his hands over his head with a dramatic exhale. “Please, I hope you’re not.”

“See now that, that’s dirty,” John said before stealing a quick kiss from Arthur’s lips. “Who the fuck are you to be…all this? Like, pick a struggle. Be sexy or cute.”

Arthur turned his head to the side with a scoff. “And look who’s talking.”

John’s hands ran up Arthur’s forearms; he threaded his fingers between Arthur’s and pinned them down. “Come on, spill it. A bad habit, some sort of vice. There’s gotta be something.”

“I used to smoke,” Arthur said with a shrug.

John’s mouth fell open in a soft gasp, faking shock. “No. That’s it, we’re done here.”

Arthur smirked, brought his bottom lip in between his teeth. He lifted his legs, braced his knees at John’s waist. John noticed a bit too late as Arthur jutted his hip into his and effectively rolled John onto his back.

John’s mind scrambled, not realizing the situation until Arthur’s hands pinned him down. He’d been pinned by an omega, a recessive but still. “That’s not fair, I wasn’t ready.”

“All’s fair in this room. You let your guard down,” Arthur said, leaning into John and stretching his body against him. “I win.”

John followed Arthur to his neck, Arthur’s teeth biting at his earlobe before trailing his lips down to kiss at the slight reveal of John’s scent gland. John rolled his eyes, letting them flutter as his shoulders relaxed under Arthur.

He felt like a weighted blanket made especially for him, the way his chest was flush to his and how he sat on his waist.

“I concede, just stay right here,” John muttered, shaking his hands free from Arthur’s and crossing his arms around his waist.

Arthur hummed, his teeth peeling down John’s collar and nibbling at his scent gland. John shrugged a shoulder up with a nervous giggle. “That tickles.”

Arthur pulled back with a laugh, then returned with another lick at the oil secreting on John’s skin. “Have I mentioned you smell good?”

“It might have come up once or twice,” John said, his hands going for Arthur’s hips as he started to shift.

Arthur bit down lightly, sending a shock down John’s spine. His hand kneaded at Arthur’s hip, bringing him impossibly close. “Arthur, be careful with those teeth.”

“I’m watching myself,” Arthur whispered, angling his hips against John and dragging his ass along John’s zipper.

“You…are unbelievable,” John said, raising his head to see that Arthur was grinding against him.

His hands lined Arthur’s waistband until one slipped down the back of his pants. Arthur purred affirmatively, his lips dragging around to line up John’s throat.

John’s fingers wiggled down the curve of Arthur’s ass, being greeted with an intense wetness against skin.

“Arthur,” John grizzled, tugging down Arthur’s pants and circling a finger around Arthur’s rim.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered and he shook his head. He stood up on the bed, letting John’s hands drop to his sides. John tilted his head up, watched as Arthur unbuttoned his pants and let them fall over John’s waist.

He stepped out of them, kicked them over the edge of the bed as John caught on and quickly undid his pants.

“We doing this now?” John asked, reaching over the edge of the bed to rummage through his backpack. He’d gone into town to the convenience store and bought a box of standard alpha condoms.

Arthur nodded, reaching for his shirt and peeling it off of his body. He bounced softly on the bed, tossing his shirt away. John’s eyes never left Arthur’s body, blindly grabbing the box from his bag and pulling it open.

John stole a glance over his shoulder, tearing a foil wrapper off of the small roll. He brought it up, tore it with his teeth as he pushed his pants further down to his calves.

“No, please John take your time.” Arthur added, taking grip of his dick and folding it to his thigh.

John grinned, unwrapping the condom and grabbing his cock to roll it down. “Okay, okay.”

He tugged it down to the base as Arthur sank to his knees and returned over John. Arthur reached behind him, angling John’s cock up.

“Arthur, hey, easy,” John tried. Arthur tapped John’s cock to his hole then gently pushed it in, making John quiver out a groan.

Arthur did the same, exhaling out towards the ceiling. John’s hand returned to Arthur’s hips, holding him steady as Arthur lowered himself down. John’s eyes went cross, feeling Arthur’s hot walls clench around him.

When he got all the way down, Arthur’s cock lazily rested to John’s shirt. Arthur braced his other hand to John’s chest, his nails mildly itching to grip at his shirt. John slowly sat up, rested on his elbow as Arthur raised back up with his thighs flexing.

“You okay?” John asked softly, noting Arthur’s chest start to redden along with his cheeks.

Arthur nodded eagerly, sinking down again with a shaky exhale. John crossed his arm behind Arthur’s back, guiding him back up slowly then down a third time. The heat grew quickly between them, John resting his forehead to Arthur’s chest.

Arthur rested a hand on John’s shoulder, his breath picking up and wafting over the back of John’s neck. John’s eyes squeezed shut, holding onto the inviting squeeze of his boyfriend.

Arthur wiggled his hips once, earning a choked moan from John. He tilted his head up, lips parted and Arthur kissed him, shifting up again before coming down a fourth time.

John lightly dragged his short nails down Arthur’s back, losing his breath. Arthur went up again then down, pulling away with a low keen.

It was slow and intimate, their skin flushed with heat as Arthur finally came against John’s stomach. He sank down heavily with a few heavy gulps of air that reeked of both of them.

Arthur rested his forehead to John’s shoulder as John felt himself on the brink. Arthur’s walls contracted around him, urging him to come.

“Arthur, you gotta get up,” John muttered against Arthur’s ear. “I don’t want to knot you.”

Arthur shook his head, nuzzled against John’s skin as his arms lazily draped around John’s waist. “Go ahead.”

John’s breath picked up, chasing the grip on his cock until he gave an upward thrust and finally exploded. “Fuck.”

He clenched his nails into the small of Arthur’s back, earning a low hiss from him. His knot swelled just inside Arthur's hole, keeping the come inside. 

Arthur gasped against John, his teeth clamping down on John’s scent gland until he broke skin. His dick jerked between them, leaking come a second time. John went rigid, the mixture of pleasure and pain warring on his body. His breathing went uneven, his nails dragging down Arthur’s skin harder.

“Yes,” John whispered, throwing his head back.

John sat at his desk while Arthur slept, holding his phone to his ear as it rang.

“So your phone does work, amazing,” Abigail said as she answered.

John folded his hand to his forehead. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

Abigail scoffed over the receiver, shifting as her bed creaked in the background. “I see how it is. You get a boyfriend, you forget about your friend.”

John hid a cringed grimace, glancing over at Arthur as he rolled over. “That’s not it.”

“Sure it’s not.” Abi added with a huff. “What’s up, lover boy?”

John shrugged to himself, reaching up to scratch at his shoulder only to remember that Arthur’s teeth marks were in his skin. Him touching the mark only refreshed the new scent through the room and, while John loved the smell, the bite itched.

“Finals are going great, thank you for asking. I told you I switched majors, I signed up for this Vet Volunteer program, Arthur and I had sex, I think we’re going to be in town next week, he marked me, and I’ve been thinking of getting a car.” John rambled off everything quickly, hoping to bury every lead he had.

“Whoa, wait a second,” Abigail said, taking a moment to go silent over the line. “He marked you?”

John grinned at that, not at all ashamed by it. He worked his shoulder back, felt the slight twang of soreness in his muscle from the bite. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “Abs, I really like him.”

Abigail was quiet again and John straightened up in his seat.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s weird to tell you that. I didn’t even think about—”

“It’s okay, John. You’re not miserable, right?”

John furrowed his brows. “I wasn’t miserable with you. Did I seem miserable? I did enjoy us being—”

“John,” Abigail cut in. “I’m not saying you were. You’re happy, though? He’s not bringing you down or anything?”

John felt a tangled ball of guilt start to form in his chest, coiling and knotting around his esophagus and lungs. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Abigail scoffed. “Of course not. My alpha pride won’t let me be wounded. Plus, I’m not the one whipped by an omega.”

John snickered, his hand going up to scratch at the nape of his neck. “I am not _whipped_.”

Over the phone, Abigail mimicked a whip cracking noise until John broke out into laughter.

“So you like him,” Abigail said after John caught himself again.

“I do.” John looked over his shoulder to Arthur lying on his stomach, curling the pillow under him and nuzzling his face into it. He found himself smiling and he bit at the inside of his cheek.

“You’re so gross.” Abi faked a gag over the phone. “I can feel the sap leaking through the phone. Get over the honeymoon phase already. We get it, you’re in love or whatever.”

John’s smile only grew. “Shut up.”

“So you get him for the five years. Oh god, has he found out about your obsession about old Superman comics?”

John folded his bottom lip in, chewed on it with his teeth. “I might’ve let it slip a bit.”

“He doesn’t know about the Dracula Superman?” Abi asked eagerly, shifting giddily on her bed.

“How do you know about that?” John retorated, scrubbing his mind for a time and place he’d ever confessed that.

“I might’ve found it under your bed one day. I know what your favorite page is,” Abi sang teasingly.

John’s brows furrowed, his face scrunching in embarrassment. “I...don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” Abi said, her voice raising an octave. “Where Dracula takes a big ole’ bite out of alpha Superman’s neck. Reality imitates fiction, I guess.”

John imagined Abigail sticking her tongue out. He groaned, reaching for his mark again. “I’m hanging up now.”

Abigail giggled. “Wait, wait. Why are you coming in next week?”

“Because we’re going to his family’s cabin this weekend.”

“Oh my god, you are so sappy!” Abi screeched over the phone and John cringed again. “Just the two of you?”

“Maybe,” John said.

“I hope you don’t get married by the next time you call,” Abigail said with an exhale.

John chuckled. “I’ll be sure to send out the invitation first.”

The line went quiet and Abigail took it to complain about work. John appreciated her doing that, otherwise he was sure he’d keep going on and on about him and Arthur. He sat back in his chair, reached his hand out to softly comb his fingers through Arthur’s hair.

The more he stared into Arthur’s softened face, John felt his heart lurching in his direction. He gulped dryly, inhaled softly already attuned to the new mark scent.

John folded his lips together as Arthur hummed against the pillow, his head tilting after John’s fingers. He felt a sudden fear creep into him, hoping that he wasn’t going to smother Arthur with his affections.

“Hey, didn’t you mention you were looking for a car?” Abigail cut through her own complaints.

John snapped back to his conversation with Abigail, gently retracting his hand from Arthur’s hair.

“Yeah. Why?” John asked, turning away from Arthur.

“’Cause Dad has been tryin’ to get rid of that rust mobile of a truck for a few weeks.” Abigail shifted over the receiver, moved around until she stopped and spoke away from the receiver.

“Dad! How much you want for the truck? John’s been looking for a car! I don’t know, he’s in college! Would you help him fix it up?” Abigail called out and answered a far-away voice.

John scoffed. “Abs, if he doesn’t want to sell it—”

“He said he’d give it to you. But it needs a new ignition switch and tires. You want it?” Abigail asked back into the phone.

John raised his brows. “Can he help me get the new switch?”

“Yeah, but he said it’d be like 200 bucks.”

“Can I meet him next week to talk about it?” John asked, turning quickly as Arthur grumbled and shifted in bed.

“Sure. You gotta go?”

John watched as Arthur slowly opened his eyes, stretching his arm out to the empty bed before him. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Don’t make this a habit, John. Leave for two months and come back.”

John smiled at Arthur, watched his boyfriend scrunch his nose and roll onto his side. “I promise not to. I gotta go. Bye.”

“Bye, John. Be good!” Abigail added, raising her voice as John ended the call.

He set his phone on his desk, stood up and leaned over Arthur. “Hey, pretty boy. You hungry?”

Arthur smiled tiredly, taking both hands to comb through the sides of his hair. “I could eat.”

John nodded, taking a knee on the bed to lean over and kiss Arthur’s forehead. “Good, let’s go get something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna see some real speed? 
> 
> Smut to tooth-rotting fluff to smut?
> 
> You wanna see it happen again?


	18. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur have a full schedule ahead of them. 
> 
> Nothing will derail them from it. 
> 
> Except maybe a discussion, two discussions at the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First posted chapter of the New Year! 
> 
> I would like to add that chapters will most likely start coming in a bit infrequently. 
> 
> I'd like to start posting on Sundays but I really don't want to make that a promise I can't keep. 
> 
> Anyways, let's rev for more smut and casual boyfriending.

John woke up before his alarm, arm folded over Arthur's broad shoulders. He leaned in, inhaled the fresh scent of Arthur's hair and smiled. Today was the last day of the semester. They were also leaving today for Arthur's family cabin. 

But first, there were so many other things that needed to be done. Their Epsilon Studies final was in three hours, they still had to pack and clear out their groceries from the communal kitchen. Then they had to drive to Saint Denis and borrow Arthur's father's car and drive the extra four hours to the cabin. 

He was ready, giving Arthur a tender squeeze. Arthur grumbled, his leg shifting between John's as his arm draped over his boyfriend's waist.

"Morning," John tried, only to be met with Arthur ducking his face to his neck. His lips grazed over the mark at the meet of John's neck and John exhaled dreamily. "I know you're awake."

"No, you don't," Arthur muttered, turning his face further in until it was hidden by the pillow. 

John invaded Arthur's space further, slipping his leg from between his and sitting up. He rolled Arthur onto his back, rested on his waist. "Come on, we have so much to do." 

Arthur tossed his arms over his head, slowly blinking awake and grinning at John. "We've got time." 

John reached over Arthur, over the headboard and to his desk to click his phone awake. "You could say that." 

As John was stretched over Arthur, his hands ran up his boyfriend's sides then back down to trace his fingers under John's waistband. Arthur's dry, warm lips found the meet of John's ribs and kissed at his skin. His tongue tempted out, lazily dragged up as John pulled back from the desk with an embarrassed giggle. 

He bent forward, hovered to kiss Arthur before biting back. Arthur raised his head up, taking the rest of the distance to kiss John. His morning breath was pungent, raw, but Arthur's scent overpowered it all. John raised a curious brow, mildly sniffing at the air the more redolent the scent became. 

John timidly teased his tongue out, was met with Arthur sucking on it. He folded down, making their chests flush as his hands found their way in Arthur's hair. Arthur's hands slid down John's thighs and gripped, shifting him against his hardened cock in his boxers. 

John hummed, the heat rising between them before he pulled away. He growled down at his boyfriend circling his thumbs along John's hips, toying his waistband down with the elastic snapping it back in place, unashamed. 

"We've got time," John repeated, looking up to the window as the sun began to rise. 

He shifted off of Arthur, leaned off of the bed to rummage through his backpack again. Arthur turned on his side, leaning on his elbow as his free hand ran up John's thigh and squeezed. John smirked, tearing a wrapper from the roll and tossing it back onto the bed. 

"Come here," John said, returning to the bed. 

Arthur climbed onto John, leaned over him and caught his lips in a hungry, sloppy kiss. John's hand found its way down the back of Arthur's boxers, being met with wetness. 

"You woke up like this?" John teased in a low rasp. 

Arthur hummed in response, angling his hips for John's fingertips to touch his hole. "Maybe." 

John jolted further awake at that, the morning haze no longer taking its lazy toll on him. He bared his teeth at Arthur, a deviant grin growing on his lips. "Did you dream of me?" 

Arthur dragged his lips along John's cheek then took nibble of his earlobe. "And no one else."

John tapped a finger at Arthur's hole, pressing in and he was met with more slick. He raised his brows, Arthur shifting his hips along his as he worked his finger further in.

"Baby..." He drawled out, slipping his finger further in before dragging back out and working a second finger in. 

Arthur keened, dropping his chest to John's and spreading his knees out to allow John further access. He was hot inside, and somehow tighter than before. John curled his fingers up, rubbing along Arthur's innermost wall to find the ridge. 

He found it, rougher than before and wider. Arthur jerked against him at the touch, bringing his head up and folding his bottom lip between his teeth. John stared at the vision of Arthur above him, his floppy chestnut hair draping down and catching onto the incoming sunlight.

“I get you to myself all weekend,” John whispered, working his fingers in and out of Arthur slowly. “I must’ve done something right.”

Arthur tried to laugh, but it became choked and contorted with a moan, his mouth falling open from his signature bright smile. John, with his free hand, searched the bed for the condom and tore it open with his teeth.

His dick was hard and throbbing, pressed and slotting against Arthur’s with their boxers catching together. John shifted his waistband down awkwardly, knowing that it wasn’t ideal with the haste.

He abandoned the condom, still in wrapper, in his mouth and reached with both hands to rip Arthur’s boxers apart.

“Now who’s eager?” Arthur asked, his voice a low husk. He was startled but went with it, shaking the legs of his boxers down his thighs to allow John further access; his cock sprang free from its cloth confines.

John sat up on his elbow and grabbed hold of his dick, curling the condom down until it hit the base. He angled it up, watched Arthur shift until it slipped between his slick cheeks.

John hissed inwardly, reaching around Arthur to point his tip and push in at Arthur’s tight rim. Arthur’s face scrunched in pleasure, hand going for John’s chest and clawing into his pectoral.

John couldn’t help the look of sheer amazement at Arthur taking him in and looking majestic while he did so. The sunlight crossed over Arthur’s bare chest, striping him in gold. John sat up further and reveled on the tightest squeeze of Arthur around him.

He turned his face in, burying his nose between Arthur’s pectorals while his nails raked up his boyfriend’s back. John couldn’t help the absolute worship he wanted to give Arthur for putting up with him and giving him the best.

His lips grazed kisses all over Arthur’s skin, breathing against his boyfriend’s perked nipples. John began in an upward thrust, bracing his feet to gain better traction.

Arthur followed his pace, matched it in rhythm, coming down to meet and make a vulgar, skin-slapping noise. John’s hands found their way up to Arthur’s shoulders as he rolled them back, forcing more of his toned chest into John’s face.

Arthur’s hands folded into John’s hair, roughing it up and tenderly combing through it.

“Talk dirty,” Arthur urged in a low pant. His hand dropped down between them, began stroking the tip of his cock.

John raised his eyes up, caught onto Arthur’s stare through his messy locks. He forced a puff of air out, blowing his hair back before growling again and grabbing at Arthur’s waist.

“Already sick of vanilla, huh?” John followed Arthur down on his dick, then ground his hips in to fill Arthur completely. “You addicted to alpha cock?”

Arthur’s pants picked up, a high-pitched moan escaping his lips from John getting in to the hilt. His eyes fluttered, nodding along to what John said.

John growled, fueled by Arthur’s noises. He shut his eyes for a moment, let Arthur back up to resume their pace.

“Baiting me too. You want me to wreck you?” John tried, baring his teeth to graze along Arthur’s chest.

He felt Arthur’s cock jerk between them; John’s dick rubbing so close to the inner wall of Arthur, the heat making John start to sweat more than he already was.

“You’re tight, it’ll take a lot more than this.”

John gave a hard thrust up again, meeting Arthur in another lowly slap of skin. His hands circled around Arthur’s waist. Arthur writhed on him, stopping in his stroke to comb his own hair back with a whiny mewl.

John wasted a second more, taking Arthur in again as he was coming undone at the edges. Their skin was hot, sticky and Arthur’s body concaved into John. He took the lead again, picking up his pace and unrelenting as Arthur’s face scrunched, his brows knitted tightly together with the chase of pleasure.

"You want me to paint the inside of you with my come?" John huffed out, practically broken. 

Arthur was suddenly overcome with it, both hands holding onto John as his cock spurt against John’s stomach. He gasped, leaning more of his weight onto John as he rode out his high with bucking hips.

John seethed at the downright delightful squeeze on his dick, willing him to come as well. He slowed in his pace with his knot taking form, letting Arthur take hold as he finally came. They fell back on the bed, Arthur collapsing to John’s chest as the knot took its full form and plugged.

Arthur nuzzled at John’s chest, his hips barely swaying as he was incapacitated on John’s knot. They laid there, Arthur’s hand finding John’s and resting their fingertips against one another.

He tensed his fingers against John’s and John reflexively tensed back, stifling a yawn behind his lips.

John raised his head slightly, saw Arthur resting his ear to his chest. His hair cascaded across John’s bare skin, his forehead glistening in sweat.

John hummed, looking up at the ceiling with a tender smirk. He felt his dick twitch inside of Arthur until he found himself coming again. John's hand went for Arthur's shoulder to alert him though he was losing his breath at the hot, wet constriction of Arthur. 

He couldn't speak, only stared dizzily down at Arthur. They waited a bit longer until John’s knot de-swelled before Arthur sat up.

He unhitched a leg from John, leaned over and kissed him fully. “I call first dibs in the shower.”

John sat up, almost too quickly. “Like hell you do.”

Arthur climbed off of the bed, wobbling a bit in his stance before making a waddle-like sprint to the bathroom. John scurried after him, folding his dick to his thigh before stopping in the doorway.

Arthur was already halfway in the shower stall, hand held out to test the temperature of the water. John looked down at his wilting dick in his hand, noted the ring of the condom planted firmly at his base.

The rest of his cock was bare, the rubber torn and hanging on like a tattered flag at the end of battle. _Shit._

John looked up at Arthur, noted the slow yet perversely delicious trail of his come slithering down the back of Arthur's leg.

“You comin’, bud?” Arthur asked, stepping into the shower stall and ducking his head into the spray.

“Y-yeah,” John said, quickly tearing off the piece of condom and tossing it into the bathroom trash.

He stepped in behind Arthur, was hit with the off-spray from his boyfriend’s body. John leaned forward, rested his lips against Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur sat on the bed, still in his towel as John was pacing the room.

“Hon, it’s not that serious. It’s just a little tear,” Arthur said, undoing his towel and dropping it to the floor.

His second towel, draped over his shoulders, was now going up to dry his hair. John couldn’t stop himself for a moment, stealing glances of Arthur, openly nude, though it was definitely not the time.

“Arthur, I know it might not seem serious.” John began, wondering what else he could say if anything. “You are wildly calm about this.”

John was mindlessly sniffing the air, taking in the slight change of scent the room was coming around to. He stopped and looked at Arthur, who was combing his fingers through his damp hair and shaking it out.

“John, I’m a recessive. This is not the death sentence you think it is.” Arthur said, tilting his head to run the towel through his hair again.

“I never said that,” John said, pointing at Arthur before standing before him. “Baby, I don’t want something like this to ruin school for you.”

Arthur scoffed, shook his head with a grin. “I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing to worry about. There’s the slimmest of possibilities something could come out of this, and I mean _slim_.”

John narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend, a dry smirk curling on his lips. “How slim?”

“Slimmer than your margin of error,” Arthur added, stretching his arms over his head. He dropped a hand down to his stomach, poked around his stomach with curiosity. “Look, no soreness. You didn’t even come that much.”

John found his face going flaccid in shock. 

Arthur grinned with a scoff of amusement to follow. “It probably tore when you pulled out.”

John nudged his knee between Arthur’s, spreading his legs before resting his lips to Arthur’s forehead. He waited for his lips to burn, to sear at the rising temperature of hormones within Arthur.

With a low exhale, he nudged his nose through Arthur’s damp hair then shook his head softly. Arthur growled out a huff, dropping his towel to his thigh before reaching out to grip at the meet of John’s cheek and thigh.

He bared his teeth with a smirk. “Even so, should we—” John didn’t want to bring it up, didn’t want to be the one to come up with the idea.

Inside, with alpha pride, John wanted nothing to be done. He was ready to cross his fingers and roll the dice on it, the coals only alighting at the thought.

Arthur inhaled deeply then exhaled against John’s wet chest. “If it wipes that guilty look off your face, I will take something on our way to the cabin.”

John bit back a stone grimace, not wanting a bit of disappointment to appear through to his eyes. He rested his forehead to Arthur’s, opened them and stared deeply through the blue depths to find a sliver of doubt.

There was none. John grit his teeth, nodded once. “I love you.”

John stiffened as soon as the words came from his lips, his body going rigid even in Arthur’s hold. Arthur’s hand tried at a softening squeeze, was met with a harder clench than actual steel.

Still, Arthur smiled, bared his teeth. “Easy, bud. Breathe.”

John shakily exhaled by Arthur’s instruction; his smile was warming, more than enlivening and reassuring like a steady anchor. He attempted a grin back, was met with a peck on the lips.

“Love you too.” Arthur whispered when he pulled away. His hand tapped playfully at John’s backside. “Get dressed.”

John teasingly bit out at Arthur’s nose. “This bossing me around ain’t gonna fly. You’re messing with an alpha.”

Arthur pursed a high-pitched air from his mouth with an eye cut to the ceiling. “How could I forget?” Arthur’s hand roamed down to John’s thigh.

John grinned fully, the corner of his mouth twitching further up to bare a sharp canine. He reached for Arthur’s wrist, returned it to the bed. “You’re on thin ice, mister.”

John stood at the front of his Epsilon class, holding his discussion paper at his side. Professor Strauss sat by, his gradebook open in his lap as his ankle crossed over his knee.

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Matthews,” Strauss said with a wave of his hand, urging John to proceed.

John cleared his throat, looked around the sparse, empty seats of the classroom before seeing Arthur. He grinned back at John, holding his chin in his hand as he stared back.

“Okay. So, I wanted to discuss the dual sexuality that is regarded with Epsilon and primary gender.” John forced out, projecting his voice to the back of the room.

Strauss raised his brows, wrote down the topic in his gradebook then motioned for John to continue.

“I am an alpha, male alpha. And prior to this year, I was in a relationship with a female alpha,” John said, glancing to his paper then dropping it back down. He haphazardly stuffed it into his jacket pocket and straightened his back, glancing to Arthur again.

Arthur’s smile never left his face, his eyes only brightening while he tapped his pencil against the ledge of the lecture desk.

“I’d interacted with omegas before, was never attracted to them though the Epsilon states that it is hormonally irregular to not be. And while it is difficult to explain sexuality in Epsilon gender, I previously regarded myself as heterosexual because… _female_ alpha.”

At that, the class breathed out a conjunctive exhale of amusement. John blew out a hard breath and looked over to Strauss, saw that he’d closed his gradebook.

“This is brought up because I am no longer dating a female alpha. I am with a male omega. Dual sexuality of my dating patterns could now both be seen as bisexual. And I’m not the only one. Dual sexuality is usually grazed over when it comes to betas dating omegas or alphas. There are three genders of the Epsilon, as far as we know. And there are 72 genders of human expression.

“There is no such thing as a straight alpha, beta or omega. There is no necessity to announce any status so long as it is safe and consensual. Dual sexuality is a dated term, it is no longer necessary to be used in the Epsilon.”

Arthur gave a thumbs up to John and John immediately deflated as Strauss gave him a soft patter of applause.

“Thank you, Mr. Matthews. I like the topic you chose. The floor is now open to questions,” Strauss said, holding his hand out to the mostly unenthused class.

John was ready to skirt by with the skin of his teeth, with no one asking questions about his topic. Instead, a hand shot forward, waving mildly in the air and John’s snapped in the direction only to see Arthur.

He sat up in his chair, rolling his shoulders back with a defiant smirk. Strauss looked over the tops of his glasses to Arthur. “Mr. Van Der Linde?”

Arthur dropped his hand at acknowledgement, clearing his throat then casually combing his fingers through his tresses. John felt his cheeks start to heat up in a blush, fighting off the smile at whatever Arthur was about to bring up.

“So, you said that you previously weren’t attracted to omegas. What was it that made you attracted to the one you’re with now?” Arthur asked, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip and working it to stop a grin.

John didn’t fight it then. He looked over to Strauss then spoke up. “It wasn’t omega qualities that attracted me to my partner. I genuinely enjoyed his company, how friendly and kind he was despite his previous indifference to alphas.”

“He was friendly?” Arthur repeated.

“He was more than friendly, he was comforting even as a stranger. And the way that he let me into his life like we’d already known each other forever.” John caught himself, his hand going to rub at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how to explain it but his gender wasn’t the attractant. His own qualities were what drew me in.”

Strauss nodded along, writing another note down in his gradebook. “Good question.”

John cut his eyes up to Arthur, was met with a tender scrunch of his boyfriend’s face.

“Anymore questions? Comments?” Strauss asked, firmly clasping his gradebook closed again and looking around the room.

The classroom was listless, wholly deflated. John exhaled in relief then bowed away from the front of the class and returned to his seat next to Arthur.

As soon as he sat down, his hand shot out for Arthur’s knee gently tugging him in his direction. Arthur rested his hand on top, leaning in to nibble at John’s earlobe.

“That sucked,” Arthur joked, giving John’s cheek a quick peck after.

“At least that’s over,” John whispered, mimicking a checkmark on a list in the air.

John and Charles pushed at the bags in the trunk of Charles’s car as Arthur was on the phone with his father.

“Yeah, yeah Dad. We’re about to leave if Micah could hurry the hell up!” Arthur raised his voice as he caught onto his younger brother walking up the sidewalk with his backpack and bag slung over the same shoulder.

“Shut up!” Micah called back, picking up his feet in an awkward shuffle. His boots trampled through the spattering of puddles on the sidewalk, his jacket undone and his scarf uneven on his shoulders.

Arthur returned his attention to his phone with a deep exhale. “Yes, we’ve gotten along fine. I’m sure he’s been a star student, why would I have to check in with him?” Arthur held his phone between his cheek and shoulder, reaching to grab his brother’s backpack and setting it in the front passenger seat.

He rested his hand on Micah’s head, ruffling his straw-blond hair. Micah scrunched his face, a deepened frown on his lips as his hands swatted out to bat Arthur away.

John rested his back against the stack of bags, taking the second for Charles to take Micah’s bag and stuff it on top. “I think we’ve got it.”

John moved out of the way, letting Charles firmly shut the hatchback as his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

He stuffed his gloved hand into his pocket and fished out his phone, answering before looking at the caller ID. “Hey mom, we haven’t gotten on the road yet.”

“I was starting to worry! You told me you’d call and I thought you forgot about me.” John felt his heart twang in guilt, hearing the worry in his mother’s tone.

He tugged his beanie back on his forehead with a deep sigh. “I wasn’t going to forget about you. I should’ve called you when I was done with my final but I was busy with packing.”

It wasn’t a full lie to his mom, most of John’s time was spent packing. The smallest sliver of time was spent tempting and torturing himself with the thought of the morning before it went sour.

John caught onto Arthur as he opened the back door of the car, his cheeks pinched cold and his lips wet from licking. He was still on the phone with his dad, nodding for John to climb in.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Are you getting on the road soon?” Bess shifted over the receiver, a soft clanking of dishes in the background.

“Yeah, we’re getting on the road now,” John said, wedging himself between the door held open by Arthur.

“That’s good. Who’s driving?”

John shifted in the backseat to sit behind Charles then Arthur sat in behind Micah. He was just getting off of the phone, eyes rolling dramatically as he leaned forward to mention something to Charles.

John raised his brows at the two siblings, Arthur’s hand bracing his knee. “Uh, Charles, Arthur’s brother.”

“Right!” Bess’s worried tone suddenly went chipper at mention of Arthur. “I’m so happy you’re bringing Arthur home for the winter. Does he have any allergies? What size sweater does he wear?”

John blinked fervently at his mother’s eager manner. He shook his head. “He doesn’t have any allergies, and please don’t make him a sweater. I’m sure he doesn’t need another one.”

Arthur turned to John, eyebrows furrowing as he mouthed ‘who is that’. John mouthed back that it was his mother and, in an instant, his phone was from his ear and to Arthur’s.

“Mrs. Matthews, don’t you dare listen to your son. I would love a sweater.” Arthur’s hand inched up John’s thigh, gave him a comforting squeeze as Bess’s voice lilted through the receiver.

“No ma’am, no allergies at all. I absolutely love country ham, I hope you’re not doing all that for my sake.”

John was beaming, seeing Arthur talk in the same eager and excited manner his mom was. He was staring, close to breaking his face, while they talked. Maybe this was what his mom wanted in his partner, to be so light-hearted and polite.

“I don’t think I should, truly. Mrs. Matthews is fine for me.” Arthur added, bringing John out of his praising trance. “I will definitely see you on Tuesday. Did you want to talk to John again?”

He peeled the phone from his ear, shrugging off his hat in the process. “It’s for you.”

John smirked, taking the phone back as Charles started the car. He brought his hands up to his mouth, bit his glove from his fingers and peeled them off before gearing the car in reverse as Micah fastened his seatbelt.

“I like him, John,” Bess said when the receiver was to his ear again.

“Yeah, me too.” John added, peeling off his hat and gloves then tossing them into the empty seat between him and Arthur.

“I hope you have fun, okay? Be safe, and don’t do anything stupid.”

John hid a cut of his eyes. “Of course, mom. Love you.”

“Love you, dear. Bye.”

John ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket. Arthur unzipped his jacket as Charles turned up the heat, making the car crank and buzz with age.

“We got everything, right? Six weeks worth of everything?” Charles asked, pointed to the youngest of the siblings.

“What?” Micah snapped his head up from his phone. He looked at Charles, then over his shoulder to John and Arthur both waiting with raised brows.

“Fuck, yes. Okay? Can we go now?” Micah raised his feet to the dashboard, bracing his boots to the hard plastic as he leaned in his seat.

“Actually, can we stop up at the convenience store before we get on the road?” Arthur asked, leaning forward to Charles.

“Yeah, sure. We can get some snacks.” Charles managed to reason, taking his time driving off of the campus.

John turned to look out of his window, seeing the dormitory shrink before the entire campus was stuck behind a brick wall and arching gate. Arthur leaned towards him, rested his chin on his shoulder.

“First semester down, seven more to go.” He grinned.

John hummed in agreeance, turning to peck Arthur’s lips. He straightened up again, shrugging his jacket off then stuffing it down at the floorboard.

“What was your dad saying?” John asked as Arthur dropped his jacket between them.

“He said that Mom’s car is out of commission so if we take his SUV, then they’ll have to use Charles’s car.”

Micah forfeited a noise of disgust from the front seat, only to be met by Arthur jerking his knee to the back of it.

John furrowed his brows. “Why can’t we take Charles’s car?”

“I need new tires, plus it doesn’t cold start well so you guys would be stuck up there until the minimum is like 50 degrees.” Charles said, adjusting his rearview mirror.

“Right, so I was just letting Charles know.”

John nodded.

Micah cut in, “So you’re leaving us with this jalopy?”

Arthur’s hand reached to smush his brother’s face away. “What the hell do you care? You’re not even gonna be there.”

Micah huffed, swatted his brother’s hand away and turned back around. John smirked at Arthur, sparing a pointed glance at Micah then back. Arthur shook his head, rolling his eyes harshly.

“A pain in the ass, I’m telling you,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

They drove further into New Haven to stop at the convenience store; both Arthur and John shrugged on their jackets and climbed out of the car, asking what the other two wanted.

As soon as they were inside, Arthur went to the chip aisle while John grabbed drinks. They returned to the front counter with their arms full.

Arthur rested his chin on John’s shoulder. “He’s got them behind the counter.”

John furrowed his brows at his boyfriend. “What?”

Arthur nudged his head in the direction of a wall of condoms, various energy pills, drinks, and emergency contraceptive. John felt a shocking jolt rush through him then, once again remembering his fumble.

“This it, gentlemen?” The man behind the counter asked while ringing up the four drinks and four bags of chips.

“And, uh, three of the Alpha Standard pack, the gold ones,” John said, nodding at the wall behind the man. “Also that Plan B.”

Arthur blew a sharp breath at John’s ear and he shrugged his shoulder up, both of them ignoring the cashier’s dirty look. The man turned, grabbed the items as John reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Three packs, huh? Better not waste them,” Arthur purred, his arm curling around John’s waist.

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” John retorted, leaning his cheek against Arthur.

The cashier bagged all of the items, except for the condoms and Plan B that John held his hand out for, then rang them up. Arthur grabbed the bags as John grabbed his card and the two of them left.

Arthur climbed into the backseat with John on the opposite side, both of them slamming the door. Arthur distributed the snacks as John tore open the box and stashed the pill in his pocket.

“Alright, are you sure you don’t have to use the bathroom before we leave?” Charles asked, opening his sparkling water and taking a sip.

Micah had already torn open his Funyuns, exposing the car to the processed sting of onion. Arthur shrugged off his coat again, got comfortable in his seat by raising his legs to rest on John’s lap.

“I’m not a goddamn five-year-old. Let’s go.” Micah bit, stuffing his mouth with two yellow rings.

John took off his jacket, remembering the pill in the pocket and handed it over to Arthur. Charles backed out of the parking spot and returned to the main road to get back on the highway while Arthur stared at the white circular pill in the palm of his hand.

John’s eyes couldn’t tear away from it either, his alpha nature wanting to snatch it back and pulverize it. But he wasn’t ready to ruin Arthur, in any way. They hadn’t even talked that part yet, John was tender around a lot in their relationship like he was finding the edges of a bruise.

He hoped that at the cabin they’d be able to get some things off of their chests. John spared a quick look up at Arthur, saw the color drained from his face.

What was he thinking? Did Arthur think that this was brutish for John to do? Was this what would deter him? John felt his lungs deflate and not take air in again.

His hand hovered between them, wondering what the best course of action would be. Arthur told him to trust that the chances were slim, was this actual pill going against that?

“What do you guys want to listen to?” Charles asked over his shoulder as Micah pulled on his headphones and began blaring harsh guitar licks.

John quickly snatched the pill away from Arthur, popped it into his mouth without thinking. Arthur’s blank stare at Charles went to pure shock looking at John work up enough spit to swallow the pill.

“John,” Arthur began, tilting his head forward in question. His eyes flicked to his empty open palm.

John hid a grimace at the chalky, bitter taste then reached for Arthur’s hand to drop it. “I trust you, okay? That look on your face was killing me.”

He squeezed at Arthur’s hand, let it drop then opened his cherry cola. “I’m up for anything,” he said to Charles.

Arthur was quiet, his face more unreadable than before. “Y-yeah. Just whatever you feel, Charles.”

When they pulled into the neighborhood of Arthur’s home, Micah snapped awake from a dead sleep. He snorted, grabbing his things and stuffing them into his backpack.

Arthur woke up as well, wiggling his toes against John’s thigh. John had muscled through the dull ride after Arthur fell asleep, casually massaging his feet until he stopped.

Charles turned at the end of the road down a long driveway, his headlights brightening the two-story cream stone home. Arthur pulled his legs back, putting his shoes back on before grabbing his jacket.

John looked over at him, tried to catch his eyes to make sure that they were okay. He waited, leaning forward, only for Arthur to glance at him with a soft grin. “What?”

John furrowed his brows. “Are we…okay?”

“Of course, hon,” Arthur said. “I just wish you didn’t pay for something that does _nothing_ for you.”

John cringed softly. “Arthur, I feel like we should talk about—”

“Yeah, we do.” Arthur added. “On the road?”

John nodded as Charles’ car came to a stop. Micah was quick to get out, barely slipping on the icy cobblestone sidewalk. He scampered around the back of the car, popping open the trunk and exposing John and Arthur to the cold air.

Charles exhaled, exasperated and shut off his car. The three climbed out of the car, each of them grabbing their bags. John and Arthur went back out to grab their dry groceries from the dorms, along with their bags, and moved them to Dutch’s SUV.

Back inside, John was greeted by four different sized dogs scurrying through the dining room and to the front door. He held his hands up, let the pack sniff and circle around him.

Charles and Micah went to the living room to find Susan sat before the television, wearing an evening gown and fur stole. Arthur instead stood and laughed at the four dogs circling his boyfriend, the smallest going to pull at John’s shoelaces.

“Alright, come on boys, let’s go out back,” Arthur said with a snap of his fingers. He pointed through the living room and the dogs went rushing around to the back door. “Come on, John.”

Arthur held his hand out for John to take, and he did so happily. They walked into the living room to Susan sandwiched between the two boys, all three of them now staring at the television.

“Mom, you remember John.” Arthur stated, holding their connected hands up in a display.

“Yes, yes, hello John dear. Your father’s upstairs if you want to get the keys.” Susan added, her hand finding the back of Micah’s hair to pet it down. “Son, have you heard of a comb? My goodness.”

Arthur shook his head, never letting John’s hand free as they let the dogs outside. John rubbed his thumb over Arthur’s, feeling dragged about while his heart raced.

“What’re your dogs names?” John asked as they went back to the foyer to ascend the stairs.

“The little bitchy one is Baylock, the shaggy one is Taima,” Arthur began, stopping at the landing. “The beautiful golden pup is Bodaceia, and that fucking unit of a dog is The Count.”

John’s lips twitched into a smile. “You named a dog Count?”

Arthur shook his head. “Not my dog. And he’s _The_ Count. Dad was very particular ‘bout it the very day he picked out that dog.”

John nodded. “Alright. _The_ Count it is then.”

He followed Arthur up the rest of the stairs and down the far end hallway to the open double doors.

“Hey Dad,” Arthur said, popping his head in. “You decent?”

“Dressed to the nines, my boy. Nothing less,” Dutch said, standing before his dresser mirror fastening a cufflink.

He stopped in his task, looking through the mirror’s reflection to see his son. Dutch squinted, his eyes shifting from Arthur to John close behind him.

“John, how are you, son?” He asked, turning around in his stance and leaning against the dark oak dresser.

Arthur stepped into the room with John following, taking in the tall white ceiling against the rich red walls, all accented with dark oak furniture.

“I’m good, sir. And yourself?” John reciprocated, returning his stare to Arthur’s father.

“Doing quite well.” Dutch added, trying to return to fastening his cufflink. He smacked his teeth with an impatient sigh and held his wrist out. “Arthur, can you help me? Your mother decided that once she was done and ready, I was the burden.”

Arthur spared a breathy huff, dropping John’s hand from his and fixing his father’s cuffs.

“What is she even watching down there? I went down there earlier and she was transfixed on that godforsaken screen.” Dutch grumbled, his mustache wiggling with the distaste in his tone.

“You are showing your age, old man.” Arthur muttered. “I don’t know what she’s watching, but she’s got Charles and Micah hooked on it too.”

Dutch exhaled through his nose as Arthur moved to straighten out his father’s collar while John stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. He was now transfixed on the pristine cream carpet, as if they’d just moved in; there wasn’t a dimple or dark spot to be noted.

“Just as well.” Dutch straightened out his neck, rolling his shoulders back as Arthur gave him a final look over.

John glanced up, his chest starting to singe in jealousy; another alpha taking Arthur’s attention away. He quickly forced his hands into his jacket pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“You’re just in time, really. We were just about ready to leave but we weren’t about to leave you without a car.” Dutch patted his black pants pockets before fishing out a car key attached to a sleek oval remote.

“I want you two to be safe, alright? Those roads get dark on the way up there. You remember how to get there, right?” Dutch asked, balancing the key ring on his pointer finger above Arthur’s open palm.

“Yes,” Arthur stressed, snatching the keys free from his father and quickly pocketing them. “We’ll be safe.”

“And you know that if you go in the liquor cabinet—”

“We’re not gonna be going anywhere. We’ve got a movie marathon set up, groceries already bought.” Arthur listed. He gave his father a quick pat on the shoulder. “We should get going, have fun at your dinner.”

“We will, son. And John, it’s good to see you again.” Dutch nodded in John’s direction.

He offered a polite smile in return. “You too, sir.”

Arthur made a stark turn in the opposite direction, hooking his arms through John’s. “Alright Dad, we’ll have to call you on our way down the mountain on Tuesday.”

He turned to John. “Pick up your feet or we’ll be stuck here all night.”

“Did he say liquor cabinet?” John asked.

“Yes. You’re not an alcoholic, are you?”

John widened his eyes as they started down the stairs. “No.”

Arthur shook his head, leaned into John. “Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”

John found himself smiling, following Arthur’s lead back downstairs and to the front door. “Alright, bye mom! See you guys later!”

“Bye guys,” Charles said back calmly.

“Don’t get pregnant,” Micah added snidely.

“Bye, sugar. Be safe up that mountain.”

Arthur opened the front door and pushed John out of it then in the direction of the SUV. “Come on, I cannot stand to be here another minute.”

John furrowed his brows, jostling the passenger door handle until Arthur unlocked the car. He climbed in, folded his hands together to keep them warm. Arthur rounded the front of the car, threw the driver’s door open and climbed in, starting the engine as he stamped his feet on the floorboard.

The LED display of the car blinked on, displaying the turned off radio along with the time. 4:28. John turned slightly to Arthur, raising a brow at the cool white lighting across his face.

Arthur fumbled with the heating dials for a second, flipping on the switches at the base of the console before turning and grabbing John’s face. He pulled him in with a deep kiss, catching John slightly off-guard.

His eyes crossed, lulled closed as Arthur’s tongue slithered its way into John’s mouth. A moan pulled from his throat, vibrating against John’s lips and John felt the sudden need to pull Arthur into his lap.

Arthur pulled away with a soft smack, his lips a bitten kind of pink. His nose was rosy red from the constant change of warmth to the brisk cold and a slight dribble was coming from his nostril.

John could _not_ help himself, his hand going up to clasp at Arthur’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his warm, soft skin. He was smitten, inhaling deeply the invading scent of his boyfriend.

His nose twitched, taking in more of the scent and mentally tracking its change through the day. John’s hand went up Arthur’s cheek, to his forehead, and pressed his knuckles to his skin.

“What?” Arthur asked.

John quickly dropped his hand back down to cup Arthur’s cheek. “Do you feel like you’re going into heat?”

“What?” Arthur repeated, his eyebrows creasing together in confusion.

John sniffed again; his nose was not deceiving him right now. “Arthur, you smell hot.”

“Thank you?” Arthur tried.

“No, like hot slick,” John explained, leaning in to sniff Arthur again.

“John,” Arthur began, gently pushing John back into his seat. “It’s the heated seats.”

Arthur motioned to the switches at the base of the console. John followed the motion, saw the two switched on nodes for the two front seats.

“Oh,” John said, deflating softly.

“You are paranoid, aren’t you?” Arthur asked, gearing the car into reverse then driving off of the half-moon driveway onto the main street.

John shook his head. “Is that what you call it? Paranoid? I’d say extra-cautious.”

Arthur stared straightforward as they drove out of the neighborhood. “You think I’m gonna trap you or something?”

John furrowed his brows, raising in his seat to fold a leg beneath him. “Oh my god, Arthur, no. I would never fucking think that.”

Arthur folded his lips together with a nod, then glanced over to John. “We gonna talk now?”

John exhaled, shrugging his jacket and winterwear to the floorboard. He folded his hands in his pockets, turned in his seat to face Arthur and fastened his seatbelt.

“Arthur, I do love you. And I know that it’s soon, and I’m probably really overbearing sometimes but I do feel that way about you.” John began. “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

Arthur’s creased brows returned, dropping a hand from the steering wheel to rest it upwards on the console. “John, are you crazy? How the hell could you ruin my life?”

John shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his knee, his hand combing nervously in his hair. “This morning. I’m not meaning to freak you out about it, but I would never forgive myself if I got you pregnant now.”

Arthur huffed. “I already told you that the chances are slim to none.”

“Arthur, baby, I know you told me. And I fully understand but deep down, I feel like I have horrible luck along with my stupid alpha pride and the next thing you know, we’re dropping out of school to have a kid.”

“Why would we ever drop out?” Arthur asked, stopping at the entrance of the neighborhood. He took the moment of looking both ways down the street to look at John, who was worrying strands of dark hair out of his head.

Arthur’s free hand reached out for John’s wrist. “Relax, John. Breathe, okay?”

John sharply inhaled, realizing that he’d been holding his breath, then released shakily. Arthur nodded, tapping the turn signal with his left hand and whipping out onto the road.

“I don’t know, I feel like it’d be too much pressure to maintain full-time student status and take care of a pup.”

John was faceted to Arthur’s profile now, marveling in the soft stubble along his jaw and how his hair was parted in the style that complimented him so nicely.

“You don’t think we could do it?” Arthur asked.

John opened his mouth to speak but was halted with alpha demeanor making him think that they could accomplish it all. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. Don’t you think it’s way too soon?”

“Yeah, I do, but in the future…”

John straightened up at that, the hint of a promise of a future. “I would like to have kids someday, Arthur. With you and only with you, if we get that far.” John tried to humble himself though it only stabbed him in the heart.

Arthur stole away from the road, a broken stare at John. “What, you don’t think we’re gonna make it?”

John shook his head, rearing up on his knees in his seat and tangling his neck in the process. “Arthur, no! I am determined for us to make it, but I don’t want to come off so smothering. I am an alpha when all you’ve known before are omegas. I fear that my demeanor might scare you off.”

“Do I scare you?” Arthur asked, crooking up a brow as he returned his eyes to the road.

“No.”

Arthur smirked. “Then what makes you so much more different?”

John thought about it. He slowly sat back down, unlocking his seatbelt from tight around his neck and kept thinking about it.

“That’s what I thought.” Arthur added, stopping at another light before the ramp to the highway. “John, I am just as determined for us to make it because I like you. Love you. And you’re right, we’re young and rushing but I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so sure in something as right now.”

John looked over at Arthur, wanting to ask a doubting question of ‘really’ but already knew the answer. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt that they slotted together so well. They hit it off as roommates, into friends. Now they were on their way to spending whole quality alone time, secluded.

“I’m not worried about pasts, okay? You have yet to do something that I’ve been put off of.” Arthur’s free hand returned to the console, holding out like the anchor that John wanted.

He took it, resting his fingertips to Arthur’s and tapping them, getting the same reflexed touch back.

“And I would like kids someday, but just like your horrible luck, I know that mine is worse. When I say that I’m a recessive, it means that my uterus is practically unsustainable.” Arthur stated, the soft light of the traffic light shining green on his face.

The green murked up his lake-greens, making them a dark inhabitable color. John tried to memorize the color, so void and hard. It was warding but calm.

Arthur veered onto the highway. “Every year, the doctor says it will condense in shape. By the time I’m thirty, I’ll probably just be like a beta.”

John didn’t say anything, only listened. He bit at the tip of his tongue, a sudden flash of a future with Arthur surrounded by four kids was now diminished to one, then…none.

“I’m not trying to make you sad or make you want to rethink our relationship. I just wanted to tell you, explain a bit more how what happened this morning is not going to ruin us.”

John dropped his fingers from Arthur’s, intertwining between them before bringing his boyfriend’s hand up to rest his lips against it. “I’m sorry for pressuring you about it.”

Arthur cut his eyes over to John, offered a tender smile. “Forgiven. And I’m sorry you spent forty bucks to eat a stupid pill.”

John huffed against Arthur’s skin, pecking his lips to the back of his hand and feeling his tendons react. “Way past forgiven. That feels like a good enough payback for the ass I’ve been.”

Arthur chuckled, returning his eyes to the road. “Not an ass, maybe just a jerk. But not all day, just a little this morning.”

John nodded. “I’ll take it.”

Their conversation faded into soft silence, the tires trekking the slightly damp roads and the brisk wind whipping against the glass.

“Fifteen condoms, huh? How long do you think that’ll last?” Arthur asked teasingly.

“Oh god,” John began, pursing his lips and a sharp breath out in fake thought. “Maybe like three hours?”

Arthur’s brows shot to his hairline, a hesitant laugh leaving him. “I think I will break your dick that way.”

“Promise, sex fiend?” John asked, his tone almost hopeful, pressing his lips to Arthur’s hand in small kisses.

“You’ve made me this way.” Arthur added.

John drew his bottom lip in with an affirmative grunt and an excessive thrust of his hips. “And don’t you forget it, babe.”

Arthur scoffed, rattling his head softly. “I might be having my heat soon, so you might want to save your energy.”

John’s brows knitted together. “How soon?”

“Like the next two weeks soon. I’d rather it come sooner than later, maybe stave it off so I didn’t have to take it back to your house.”

John snarled a bit, revealing a gleaming dull canine to the window. “You’re right, because then I’d have to kill my brothers if you did.”

“John,” Arthur said in a warning tone. “It’s not that bad.”

John’s free hand crossed over him, shrugged his jacket and shirt to show the mark that Arthur gave him. “You remember this, right? It is that bad. I know they’re family, Arthur, but if they take a step in your direction I might put them on their neck.”

“You are more than your nature, John.”

John’s throat harnessed a growl, a wet uneven rumble. “You’re just making me think of it more. Should I call my mom and tell her we’re staying longer?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised and prepared for possible smut takeoff in the next chapter. 
> 
> Please have your trays in the upright position and your seatbelt fastened, I will tell you when it is safe to move about the cabin. 
> 
> *I was gonna make an ACNH joke like: prepare for a slippery landing, but that's okay because this is a seaplane...now I realize it's not that funny. Okay, I'm done now*


	19. Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur finally make it up to the cabin and spend their first two days of their vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember that note I left on the last chapter?
> 
> I LIED. Was gonna go smutty but nope, CUTENESS CAME IN WITH THE PILE DRIVE. 
> 
> Sorry, must fluff. 
> 
> Boyfriends that are best friends are fluff first.

Two hours into the drive to the cabin, John gave his mother a call, told her that they might be staying a little bit longer. Friday at the least. 

Arthur was shaking his head in disapproval during the whole phone call, his lips pursing while he muttered that it was so unfair. 

"Oh alright, sweetheart. I guess that just gives me more time to get started on Arthur's sweater." 

John cut his eyes over to his boyfriend as he overheard her. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Matthews. It's all my fault." Arthur said, raising his voice for Bess to hear. 

"It's okay, Arthur! I hope you feel better," Bess bellowed directly into John's ear, causing him to pull the phone away and wiggle his finger in his ear to dispel the ringing. 

"Okay, mom. I gotta go," John said. 

"John, please be careful. And you leave that boy alone, okay? Make sure he gets enough sleep and water," Bess said, once again motherly. 

John nodded, ready to stop this conversation about his boyfriend's heat care. 

"Love you."

"Love you too, John."

John ended the call with an exasperated breath then put his phone in the console. He rested his head in his hand, staring out of the passenger window, as his hand returned to hold Arthur's upturned hand on the console. 

"On our next stop, let's get some bottled water," John said, turning to Arthur. 

"Okay." Arthur added, giving John's hand a squeeze. "Was she disappointed?"

"Not really. But she did tell me to leave you alone if you go into heat." 

Arthur chuckled. “Let’s see, blankets and space?”

“More or less.” John huffed. “Can’t let her find out that condoms exist.”

“Or that they rip.”

John’s hand went out to swat Arthur’s chest but realized it was stuck in his boyfriend’s. Arthur started laughing again.

“What, too soon?”

John tried to hide his grin, finally forfeited. “Just a little.”

“Alright, fine. You hungry?”

John shook his head, stifling a yawn then returning to his place by the window. “Can you wake me up at the next stop? I’ll drive.”

Arthur nodded, raising their intertwined hands to give John’s hand a peck. “Yeah, go on to sleep bud. I’ll see you in a bit.”

John smiled, nuzzling his cheek in his palm while he stared, unfascinated, through the window. His eyelids lulled until he fell asleep, sighing deeply.

Thirty minutes later, Arthur squeezed at John’s hand.

“Alright, bud. We’re stopping,” Arthur said, pulling off of the exit ramp and into the first gas station lot.

John slowly opened his eyes as Arthur parked before the store, sitting up with a low groan. He retracted his hand from Arthur’s, stretched his arms to the roof of the cab then combed his hair back.

Arthur shut off the car, pocketed the keys with a low yawn himself. “Are you getting hungry?”

John nodded, the heel of his palm going to rub at one of his eyes. He picked up his jacket and shrugged it back on, pulling his hood over his head. “Come on.”

They both climbed out of the car with Arthur locking it after. John grabbed the door, held it open for Arthur then followed him in. He went to grab a case of water as Arthur asked the cashier for the restroom key.

John returned to the front of the store, setting the case of water on the counter and reaching into his inside jacket pocket for his wallet.

“Anything else for you?” The cashier asked, unenthused. She smacked her gum loudly, brushing back her fiery curls with a dull look in her eyes.

John shook his head, looking in the direction of the restroom to see Arthur returning. “Need anything?”

Arthur shook his head, giving the key back to the attendant then grabbing the case of water as John paid. They walked out, unlocking the car and popping the trunk.

“What do you wanna eat?” Arthur asked, setting the case in the back before turning to look down the desolate exit road for options.

John looked in the opposite direction, noting the food swamp just past the bridge. “Tacos?”

“Sounds good to me,” Arthur said, handing over the keys to John then shutting the trunk.

They climbed back into the car, shrugged their jackets again but tossing them in the back on the folded-down seats. John started the car, geared it in reverse and looked over his shoulder to pull out.

Arthur got comfortable, buckling his seatbelt and leaning the seat back slightly. He pecked John’s cheek then reached into his pockets for his wallet. “I’ll pay for dinner.”

John veered back onto the exit road, smiled. “And I’ll make breakfast. Do they have a grocery store up there?”

“At the bottom of the mountain, it’s about a twenty-minute drive down. Maybe we can stop there before we head up.” Arthur’s hand reached over, his hand making its way up John’s neck to scratch at his nape of hair. “Then I get you all to myself.”

John grinned, his chest starting in a low purr. “You’re gonna realize how boring I am real quick.”

Arthur smiled back, his fingers working their way up in John’s hair comfortingly. The tingle from his scalp shot up and down his back, giving him a full body chill the more his boyfriend practically preened him.

“Hey, that won’t change anything. I’m boring too.”

John leaned a bit into Arthur’s touch, his purr growing until it filled the cabin. Arthur’s hand scratched forward towards John ear before combing his fingers back through the dark tresses.

“Didn’t know you could purr.”

John shrugged a shoulder, awkwardly nuzzling into Arthur’s touch as he pulled into the drive-thru taco lot. He hummed, his nose twitching. Pulling up to the window, John’s mouth tingled to water, once again smelling hot slick.

He slowly pulled back from Arthur with a timid grin; John tapped the window button and it rolled down automatically.

“Do you know what you want?” He asked, resting his forearm on the windowsill.

John sat back, let Arthur get a good look at the menu. Arthur leaned on the console, chin in his hand while his fingers drummed on his bottom lip.

“A number three, large with a cola.”

“Anything else?”

“Have you seen my ass? There’s no ruining perfection,” Arthur said back.

“Seen it? How can I not see it?” John brought his hands up, tried to measure the size of Arthur’s ass by memory. He spared a glance over to Arthur’s seat then gave a wry smirk, bringing his hands out further.

“Fuck you,” Arthur chuckled, his hand going out to swat John in the chest.

John hummed amusedly, turned back to the drive-thru speaker and ordered.

They got thirty minutes from the cabin to stop and eat. By the time that they did, their tacos were lukewarm and their drinks were close to watered down.

They both climbed into the folded down backseat to stretch their legs out, with Arthur lounging on his side as he picked the wilting lettuce from his burrito.

John sat cross-legged before him, fingering through his own soft taco after a bite to shed the raw diced tomato in it. He took another bite, then was overcame with his hunger and stuffed the rest into his mouth.

Arthur looked up from his burrito after carefully wrapping it closed again; he used his teeth to tear open a sauce packet and emptied it in the end of the tortilla.

“Alright, I got a question.” Arthur began, sitting up a bit further to take a bite of his food.

“I might have an answer,” John said, holding a hand over his mouth while he stopped chewing. His cheeks were round and full of mostly taco meat.

Arthur scoffed, chewing his food carefully then folding his fist to his hand as he swallowed.

“So, you dated Abi, another alpha. She, as an alpha, has…” Arthur’s face started to redden as he tried to force out the word but it was getting stuck on the lump of food in his throat. He motioned to his waist and John couldn’t help his laughter.

He almost spit out ground beef as he nodded, chewed again. “Yeah?”

“Well, I wanna know if, whenever you two were together, did she…top you?” Arthur asked, his eyes now firmly in the opening of his burrito.

John had to finish the food in his mouth before he choked, not from embarrassment but from the amusement. He managed to swallow, reaching for his drink to aid it down. He held up a finger from his hold at the top of the cup, pointed over to Arthur.

“How long you been thinking of that one?” John asked casually.

Arthur shrugged, suddenly gone mute and not catching John’s stare. John furrowed his brows, started at a smile then kicked a foot out to Arthur’s ankle.

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, you asked the damn question,” John said with a light snicker to follow.

Arthur huffed, smiled and slowly brought his eyes up to meet John’s. John tilted his head, matching his boyfriend’s grin.

“You want to top me, don’t you?” John asked then.

Arthur’s eyes widened and his face flashed red. John kicked at Arthur’s ankle again, starting to chuckle.

“You do! You fucking pervert!” John teased, leaning forward fully and grabbing onto Arthur’s shoulder.

“I am not a pervert!” Arthur added, dropping his food and sitting upright.

“Are you getting sick of me tapping that ass?” John asked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

He’d never even asked. That was alpha of him to do that, to just take that kind of charge and assume that Arthur was always going to be okay with it.

Arthur laughed then, the sheer shudder of embarrassment racking his body while his laugh filled the cabin. He looked up at the roof of the car, at the overhead light and shook his head.

“’Course not. I’ll never get sick of it.”

John dropped his hand from Arthur’s shoulder to behind him. “Never you say?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” Arthur said, pushing John’s face away.

John spared a few titters of amusement as he sat back, returned to eat his second taco. He held it in his hand, squished it tightly before glancing at Arthur.

Relationships were always about compromise, John knew that. And he wasn’t opposed to the idea, he’d been subject to it before. But…

“We’d have to work up to it,” John said finally, taking a bite of his taco to punctuate.

Arthur looked over at him, eyebrows knitting together in slight confusion. John nodded while he chewed, cleared his mouth and spoke again.

“If and when you wanna…we have to work up to it.”

“I’m not saying we have to do it now, bud, but…the idea is there, right?”

John smirked. “We’ve got a minimum of five years to work this shit out. I’m not worried about time.”

“You’re gonna keep me for five years?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, you know I was thinking I wanna see you graduate and do something with your art degree,” John began, his smirk growing as he stretched both legs out. “I’m sure our bastard child will be old enough so we can spoil it in two households. Then we just meet one day, shake each other’s hand and walk our separate ways.”

Even joking about it made John’s heart yank up to the back of his throat, his tongue gone dry and stiff like cement. His smile slowly fell the more he stared at Arthur. Arthur barely tempted at a grin.

“That was a cruel fucking joke,” John said, dropping his taco to its flimsy wrapper. He stared down at his lap, grabbed his drink and sipped.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. I mean, to assume we’d shake hands? I deserve a fucking goodbye kiss at least.”

John’s lips tempted to smile, his eyes slowly grazing up the length of his legs and to Arthur. “You deserve more than that. Plus, one kid? Are we kidding? I’m thinking more of three.”

“How ‘bout five?” Arthur quickly retorted.

“Oh god, we should get started like right away then,” John joked, seeing the amusement alight in Arthur’s eyes.

His mouth returned to normal as he swallowed deeply. “Would you ever be open to being marked?”

Arthur’s eyebrows quirked, raised before a devilish smile curled across his greased lips. “I feel like you’d been holding it back for a long time. Every time. Did I freak you out with that bite?”

John was already unconsciously reaching for it, working the healing bite along his muscle. He squeezed at it gently, refreshing the fast food scented air with a mixture of pine needles and salt lake sunbathing.

He shook his head. John would wait for a long time to tell Arthur that he was ecstatic that he bit him, marked him, because it meant that he wanted John around for a long time. Whether it was a moment lost in the passion or a clearly motivated move, John was stuck with Arthur for a while.

And it was unorthodox to say the least, but everything about them was already. An omega marking their alpha first is just a gentle reminder much like a rattlesnake rearing to strike. Alphas in their natural state were more protective of omegas, needing to be that protector meant giving a mark. Arthur doing that was just the same, but only gave off a more intense notion.

‘There is nothing beyond my limits to protect my alpha’. John couldn’t help but wear it with pride, a notion that commanded respect from any other Epsilon, no matter their creed, for Arthur.

“No, I-I liked it.” _A bit too much_. John remembered that moment with a new surge of embers in his gut and he grimaced.

He squinted over at Arthur, wondering if he could feel what he felt. Arthur’s smile was maintained, almost knowing while he caught onto John’s eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose.

John straightened up, kicking his feet out to Arthur’s calves. “Finish up your burrito, let’s get up that mountain before it snows.”

“Okay,” Arthur responded with a laugh. “We can start a fire when we get in.”

“You’ll have to give me a tour.”

“Yeah, and I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

The snow began to fall as Arthur put the SUV in park on the side of the cabin. As soon as they’d made it to the cabin, the flood lights flashed on. The trees decorated the back of the cabin, the shadows pushed away while the sky darkened further.

John gathered their dinner and tossed it into the metal trash can chained to the front deck; Arthur popped open the trunk of the SUV and grabbed their bags then went to the front door to unlock it.

John rushed to grab the groceries, closing the trunk afterwards, and followed Arthur inside. Arthur dropped their bags at the end of the hallway, locking the SUV from the front window.

“Firewood?” John asked, setting the groceries on the island counter. The inside of the cabin was dark except for the overhead light in the kitchen, the white flooding over into the living room and barely touching the end of the hallway.

“On the back porch,” Arthur said, reaching for the nearest wall to search for the light switches. He flipped them on, shutting the front door and locking it closed. “You wanna start it now then take a tour?”

John nodded, unpacking the groceries and placing them in the cabinets. He stopped, rested his hands on the kitchen island and exhaled. “Is the water gonna freeze in the car?”

Arthur hung the keys on the hook by the front door. “It might.”

John pushed away from the counter with a deep exhale, the weight of the day suddenly seeping into him. “I’ll grab that, you grab firewood.”

“Okay babe,” Arthur agreed, both of them meeting in the middle of the room to share a quick peck.

John unlocked the front door, grabbed the keys and went to grab the water while Arthur retrieved the firewood. They met back in the living room, this time shedding their outer layers while Arthur loaded the fireplace and checked the chimney for any blockage before starting the fire.

John popped off his shoes, wiggling his tepid toes against the bearskin rug between the two couches. “Can we fuck on this?” He asked with a devilish smile to follow, his socks slicking over the soft and spiny fur of the outstretched bear hide.

Arthur smirked in response, balling up dry pieces of yellowed newspaper and stuffing them beneath the logs as the kindling sparked to life. “You gonna clean it afterwards?”

John quirked his brows in a challenge, silently agreeing to the menial task if it meant getting to roll on fur with Arthur. “I will lick it up if you want me to.”

Arthur hummed then, sitting back on his haunches and sparing an intrigued glance to John. His tongue prodded between his lips as his eyes dragged down John’s body before looking back at the fire.

“You’ll have to seduce me first.”

John laughed. “God, what a task that’ll be.” He slipped from the couch to sit on the floor, move a bit closer to Arthur and nuzzle his face on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Arthur flicked at John’s cold-bitten, red nose. They sat down on the bearskin, stretching their feet towards the fire and got comfortable until they decided to call it an early night.

“We can sleep in my parents’ room if you want, we’ll just have to clean the sheets before we leave.” Arthur suggested, grabbing his bag from the floor and walking to the very end of the hallway.

John nodded, grabbing his bag, and followed Arthur to the bedroom, taking in the animal trophies mounted on the walls. Arthur held the main bedroom door wide open, let John step inside to take in the simple wooden furniture bedroom with an extra-large bed.

“See, now you can sleep on your side of the bed,” he teased, dropping his bag at the foot of the bed and walking to the bathroom.

He flipped on the light, noted the large jacuzzi tub in the corner across from a shower stall and then the standard sink and toilet. John raised his brows, ducked his head back to look at Arthur, his mouth quirking suggestively.

“There too?” Arthur asked, already telling by John’s face what he was thinking. “You want me to never be able to come up here with my parents ever again.”

“It’s not like they aren’t already thinking it.” John added, shutting the bedroom light off and undoing his pants. “They probably think we’re stuck somewhere, fucking in the back of the SUV.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Thank god we’re not doing that, can you imagine cleaning those seats?”

John shook his head, dropping his pants and stepping out of them before kneeling onto the bed. “No, I can’t. Your slick might eat a hole in them.”

Arthur pointed at John then, as he pulled back the comforter of the pre-made bed. “I can’t help that. I already apologized to Charles about his car.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised I still have my co—”

“Shut up,” Arthur said, grabbing one of the pillows from his side of the bed and tossing it at John, who caught it.

“Come on,” John urged, his lips puckering for a kiss. “I enjoy your slick.”

Arthur crossed his arms at the bottom of his shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it over at John next. “I know you do, but you know it only gets you in trouble.”

“It does not.”

“Do you want me to keep bringing up this morning?” Arthur asked, undoing his pants and using his hands to shrug them down before stepping out of them.

He flipped back the comforter as John tucked Arthur’s shirt under his pillow then set the other back on Arthur’s side. Arthur climbed into bed, adjusting the pillows before sinking down under the covers.

“Please do, I love reliving my personal fuck-ups,” John said, unenthused.

He made himself comfortable, sinking down to Arthur’s level in the comforter before moving closer. Arthur scrunched his nose, leaning in to nudge John’s nose. “You freaked out so much. What were you even afraid of?”

John shook his head; he couldn’t explain it. “It felt…different, I don’t know. I thought I had done something horribly wrong. And I did, I fucked up. Are you sure it didn’t break inside you? We didn’t even check to make sure the condom was intact.”

Arthur’s heavy eyelids fluttered; his face rested against the crisp white bedsheets. “Johnny, it’s fine. I don’t feel anything, but if you want, I can check in the morning.”

John’s face contorted, wanting to go back over everything that Arthur just said. “Johnny? And why don’t we do it now, babe? Just a quick hop in the shower.”

Arthur scoffed. “Yes, _Johnny_. Abs gets Marston, I get Johnny, Babe, Baby, sweetie, sugar, stud…” He trailed off, his eyes suddenly closing before opening again. “And you’re worrying again. There’s no need. What’s a few more hours. Let’s just go to bed.”

John rested his face down on the sheets, letting the comforter slowly bubble over them with the lights still on. He’d have to turn them off eventually, maybe Arthur’s parents were the type to install a clapper. Arthur’s dad definitely seemed like that kind of man.

“You’re really calm about the very slim, slight possibility that you could be a father in the next fourteen hours or whenever you decide to wake up,” John whispered.

Arthur smiled. “If it happens, and I know it won’t, then we can talk about the next step then.”

John stared at Arthur’s tired face, his floppy brown hair falling over itself and onto the bed. His cheek was nuzzled deep into the white sheets, his pink lips parted and starting to drool onto the bed. He was a sloppy, sleepy angel.

“Goddamn you being so damn cute right now. I can’t believe you just called me ‘Johnny’.” John added, going back to the very previous statement because the condom talk was done. There was no going back right now and, if in the morning they found something, the Plan B again would be their saving grace.

Maybe that time, he and Arthur could split it just to make sure that John wouldn’t screw them both over. But that was a morning talk.

“I like it,” Arthur whispered, turning on his stomach. “I might even say that during sex now. ‘Mmm, Johnny. Right there, Johnny.’”

John felt a surge of heat roam down to his gut suddenly. He did like the sound of that. Plus, it was something only Arthur would call him along with everything else.

“Then I’m gonna start calling you ‘Art’,” John whispered back, nudging his nose against Arthur’s again.

“I like the sound of that.” Arthur smiled sleepily, his arm going out to drape over John’s waist. “Love you, Johnny.”

John smiled fully, his lips tempted to kiss Arthur’s. “Love you too, _Art._ ”

They fell asleep with the lights on, under the comforter. But that was soon changed with Arthur rolling onto his side and backing into John’s chest, letting the alpha spoon him throughout the night.

The lights, on an automatic timer, shut off around midnight, and the two slept until ten the next morning. John woke up first, his nose nestled in the tickling tangle of Arthur’s chocolate tresses.

His arm on Arthur’s stomach drifted down slightly, pulling his boyfriend closer by his waist and taking in his beautiful scent. Arthur emitted a very low growl in return, his arm quickly clutching over John’s on his stomach before gently tilting his head back to bop John’s forehead.

“Don’t get up,” Arthur muttered, turning his face into his forearm made into his own pillow.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” John replied, knowing that they really had all the time in the week to do anything.

John just wanted to spend more time in this space. His lips rested to the back of Arthur’s shoulder, peeking an eye open to see their comforter igloo illuminated a dull grey. At the head of the bed was a full opening for fresh air and John was surprised that they hadn’t kicked their personal bubble away due to the heat.

But John was now focused on the small speckling of freckles on Arthur’s shoulder. His lips moved slightly, kissing up along the side of Arthur’s neck while his eye traced indistinguishable shapes on his boyfriend’s decorated skin.

His hold tightened a bit more on Arthur, earning another low growl from him before his fingers threaded through John’s.

John took the hint, easing his eye back closed with another soft kiss to Arthur’s scent gland, one that earned a shaky exhale from his boyfriend. He folded his lips in, tasting the oil then returned his nose in Arthur’s hair.

They remained like that, in their bubble uninterrupted for hours. John managed to tangle his legs in between Arthur’s, his hold only curling his boyfriend way closer and silently willing him to never leave.

The worries melted away in their combined heat; the anxieties he previously felt were now evaporating the more he held onto Arthur, his anchor. John knew that beyond their little hovel was the need to call his mom, for Arthur to call his parents, for them to worry about eating and that was it.

But that was the furthest thing from his mind because he was committing every small move of Arthur, every contour of his boyfriend’s body to his, to memory. Arthur’s back was flat to his chest, his shoulder blades suspended in their perfect posture even on his side.

Arthur’s thighs twitched against John’s when he flattened John’s hand to his stomach, letting him rub along the soft skin there.

“You okay?” John asked, stifling a yawn into Arthur’s shoulder around two pm.

Arthur nodded, tilting his head to glance over his shoulder at John. He tiredly puckered his lips and was met with kiss from John.

Their first day was wasted in bed, waiting until four pm before they finally caved to get up and function like young adults. They prepared breakfast for dinner, sat in the living room and turned on the television propped over the fireplace, going through an archive of DVDs saved in the cabin.

Turned out that Arthur’s dad was a big fan of spaghetti westerns, a facet that John could tell was rubbed off on Arthur. They finally watched ‘Shogun Assassin’ to completion, without either of them falling asleep, and John admitted that he enjoyed it just as much as Arthur did.

John started another fire around nine while Arthur prepared a marathon of hilariously bad movies accompanied by buttery popcorn. They squeezed together on the couch, with their legs clattering and crossing together, passing the bowl back and forth while commenting outrageously on every scene.

The next morning, Arthur woke up early to shower. He’d tried not to wake John, but without Arthur curled against him, he was already awake.

John shuffled out of bed, followed Arthur into the shower, previously misjudging the size of the shower stall. It was more of a sauna, with two detachable shower heads, and a cold in-granite bench. He sat on it, his body warming with the steam from the hot water rising to the ceiling.

Arthur was standing, a foot propped up on the bench as he reached between his legs and timidly tapped his own fingers inside. John couldn’t help the sick intrigue, sitting back and having to look away to keep from staring.

“I…help,” Arthur said, holding out the showerhead on the jet setting for John to hold.

“What?” John asked, taking hold of the brushed metal showerhead and now seeing Arthur sat next to him, his feet propped up on the edge of the bench.

“I can’t feel anything in there. Can…you check?” Arthur asked.

John nodded curtly, not feeling a sliver of embarrassment or shame and seeing none of those feelings on Arthur’s face either. He stood, kneeled before Arthur’s spread legs and uptilted hips.

He saw Arthur’s fingers holding open his hole with a low hiss; John was quick to tap a finger in way of his and started curling it along his innermost wall.

He expected, to put in the simplest of terms, a pool of come somewhere towards the top of Arthur; John hoped that his worry about the situation would at least be met with a sliver of latex. Nothing.

John retracted his finger, gave Arthur a warm spray for the violating touch he was subject to. “I didn’t feel anything.”

Arthur huffed, his face a contort of dry amusement and what John could only describe as ‘I told you so’.

He dropped his head slightly, resting it to Arthur’s thigh with a sigh. “I’m sorry for worrying.”

Arthur gave John a tender pat on the head. “It’s okay, bud.”

John stayed there for a moment, reveling in the warmth of Arthur’s thighs like he’d once imagined. He turned his face into his damp skin, grazing his lips against it in admiration. From the corner of his eye, John could see that Arthur’s dick was beginning to twitch in approval.

His eyes flashed up to Arthur’s, saw that his boyfriend was avoiding meeting his gaze. John grinned at that, bringing the showerhead up to rain over Arthur’s waist then dipped it down and pointed it up between his parted cheeks.

Arthur shifted then, his face going flush with pink. “That tickles,” he said, moving to close his legs and drop his feet to the floor.

But John was still firmly between them, switching the shower pulse to something a bit more…penetrating. He felt his own cock respond at the sudden squirm of his boyfriend, trying to edge towards and away from the spray at the same time.

John watched Arthur’s dick reacted even more, standing at attention in an instant. His mouth began to water staring at it, never once thinking about it going past his lips.

Now he was thinking about it, staring down at Arthur’s reddened tip as it began to leak pre-come.

“John,” Arthur said, his hand going to fold his dick away from John’s face.

John reached out, holding Arthur’s wrist as he opened his mouth slowly and rested his lips just past his tip. Arthur folded forward, his other hand immediately going for the back of John’s head.

His fingers twitched in John’s dark hair, not making any effort to pull him off or closer. John was met with the hot, salty taste of pre-come on his tongue, the tight skin of Arthur’s head feeling so foreign yet inviting in his mouth.

Arthur whimpered, his foot preparing to slip from the bench as John angled the water spray back and forth over Arthur’s rim. The water splashed against John’s throat and chest as he slowly sank further on Arthur’s length.

“J-Johnny,” Arthur stuttered, his whole body convulsing in an instant before come spurted into John’s mouth.

John’s eyes widened at that, his nose now met with the watered-down sweet slick smell that came from Arthur. He gathered enough saliva to swallow, pulling back from Arthur and knitting his brows in slight confusion.

Arthur now had his hand hiding his eyes, his cheeks, instead of bright pink, were beet red. His other hand went slack from John’s head, now on John’s shoulder.

“That was fast,” John muttered softly, moving the showerhead from Arthur’s hole as his knees began to buckle uncontrollably.

He switched the pulse back to a gentle rainfall, spraying the water along his chest then over his head and down his back before turning it on Arthur’s chest.

“I didn’t think it’d be that fast,” Arthur said lowly, his hand on John’s shoulder going to smush his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Sorry ‘bout it, babe.” John slowly raised from his knees, bending to kiss Arthur’s cheek before prying his hand from his eyes. “It’s not like it’s always that way.”

Arthur’s eyes quickly cut to John, narrowing his glare on him. “I’ll get you back for this.”

John chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casual question: 
> 
> Did you read 'Come Undone'? Do you remember how omega John acted in that like, thirteen chapters in? No?
> 
> Okay, just checking.


	20. Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some worries about Arthur's upcoming heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Arthur's heat was close to the last thing on John's mind. Waking up to Arthur still asleep on Wednesday morning, John was just thanking his twisted sense of luck for being in the same presence as Arthur. He couldn't help the downright beaming grin, staring at his boyfriend's placid face nuzzled against the bedsheets. 

His cheeks were plump and pink from the heat that they kept under their bubble, Arthur's skin was once again soft and emanating an almond scent. Lotion. John's arm draped over Arthur's waist, pulled himself into his sleeping boyfriend to silently praise him more. 

Arthur was warm, too, so naturally hot. But now he was searing to the touch. Still, John stomached through it, resting his lips to Arthur's forehead and smelling his clean hair. John was going to say it and repeat it forever, he was lucky to have Arthur as his boyfriend. 

Now, he was starting to get it. It was always there but now it was feeling more apparent. The loyalty that tethered him to Arthur and now the extremely defensive nature to protect a man that was practically twice his size. If anyone were to come in the room, pull away their bubble, John would fold his body over Arthur's before striking to attack. 

But there was no need for that. John pressed his lips to Arthur's forehead then, inhaling his boyfriend's scent before his nose scrunched in a bit of question. 

He quirked a brow, dropping his nose into Arthur's hair to get a better whiff. The short hairs on Arthur's hairs were on their way to tickling John's nose as Arthur groaned awake, his hand going out to grab onto John's hip. 

"This is a pleasant morning, look at that bird chest," Arthur teased, his voice a sultry low gravel. 

John hummed, smiled against Arthur's forehead, as his boyfriend pursed his lips out to kiss at the center of his chest. 

"It's not a bird chest," John tried, his voice working itself away with a low clearing of his throat. 

Arthur shook his head, his nose now nuzzling up the center of John's chest. "It's pretty cagey, look there’s a rib.”

His slightly rough hand rested just under John’s arm, causing John to jolt at the feeling. Arthur’s thumb traced over the barely noticeable outline of John’s rib, chuckled into John’s chest before kissing it again.

John blushed, shifting in the bed to face Arthur. “Freshman fifteen whizzed right by me, went right to your ass.”

His hands snaked around Arthur’s waist, gave him a firm tap on the rear. Arthur was now chuckling against John’s lips, his morning breath wafting its way out warmly.

John smirked, nuzzling his nose to Arthur’s before pecking his lips. Arthur pulled him closer, making their chests flush. John pushed Arthur into him, making their ankles tangle together.

“I think we should do French toast,” Arthur said, pulling away.

John dreamily followed Arthur’s warm, plushy lips in a daze. He hummed, his forehead rested to Arthur’s.

“I was thinking some strawberry preserves too.” John’s mouth began to water, a combination of the food and his delectable boyfriend before him.

His hand trailed its way up to the back of Arthur’s neck, began scratching at his nape much like Arthur did to him. Arthur’s eyes lulled, his shoulders relaxing before his chest erupted in a purr.

“Circle back to it in an hour,” Arthur said, leaning into John again with a peck.

John scoffed amusedly, gave his boyfriend a curt nod before meeting his lips for another kiss.

Their combined scent was concentrated and hot under the comforter. Arthur began to break into a sweat, a pant escaping his lips when he had the chance.

John slowed himself immensely, finally popping their bubble to give Arthur some fresh, brisk air.

“Easy, babe. You okay?” John asked, rubbing Arthur’s shoulder and easing him to steady breaths.

Arthur exhaled deeply, let himself level out then nodded. “Yeah, that was weird.”

John’s hand went to cup Arthur’s cheek. “You feel like you’re going into heat?”

Arthur blinked slowly, shook his head. John’s brows furrowed, seeing Arthur’s reddened face not diminish from the new air. The sweat was now beaded on his forehead, his hairline damp with it.

John leaned in, pressed his lips to Arthur’s forehead and immediately retracted. The searing burn was now intense and feverish.

“Are you sure?” John asked, now smushing Arthur’s cheek and looking into his boyfriend’s dazed lake green eyes, now murky and listless. “Arthur?”

Arthur shook his head, his face scrunching as he released a low hiss from pursed lips. John sprung out of bed in an instant, grabbing his nearest clothes then rushing to grab something for Arthur.

“Alright, come on, let’s try and find a hospital or something.” John helped Arthur sit up, watched him swing his feet over the edge of the bed.

He tugged a long-sleeve henley over Arthur’s head, checking him with every movement he made. John helped Arthur step into a pair of sweatpants, stopping halfway up his calves when Arthur rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Can you walk?” John asked, looking up at Arthur, his hair a bedridden mess and the color now drained from his face.

Arthur nodded, a shaky hand suddenly going for his mouth. “T-trash can.”

John scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, grabbing a plastic bin from beside the toilet before returning to Arthur. He held it out for his boyfriend, watched as he ducked his face into it and choke out a few spits of bile.

“Was it something you ate?” John asked, now retracing the nights before in his head. They’d been having the same meals, a couple bowls of ramen.

John’s free hand pushed back Arthur’s floppy tresses, held them at the back of his head and instructed him to breathe easily and let it out if he needed to.

Arthur coughed out a few more spits, his shoulders shaking. John’s hand went to Arthur’s shoulder, never realizing that his throat was dry and sealed off. He wanted to know what was wrong so he could fix it.

When he figured Arthur was finished, John set the trash can by Arthur’s feet. “Alright babe, can you stay here for a second? I gotta start the car.”

Arthur measly nodded, his body breaking into a slight shake. John shrugged off his jacket and placed it on Arthur’s shoulders. “I’ll take a blanket out there too.”

John stopped in his task, unsure if he could pull himself away for a moment. He returned to Arthur, pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s forehead then ran out of the bedroom and grabbed the keys from the front door hook.

He skidded down the snow-covered stairs, rounded the front of the car and shakily unlocked the driver’s door. John climbed in the seat, forced the key into the ignition and flooded the engine until it roared to life.

John released a shaky breath, wasted no time going back to the cabin to retrieve Arthur and his phone. And his wallet. And Arthur’s. He bumped into the kitchen island, stuffed his pants pockets full of their things.

“Arthur? You good to go?” John asked, making his way back to the main bedroom. “I’ll have to find a hospital when—”

John stopped cold in his tracks at Arthur, now curled up on the hardwood floor. His forearm was crossed over his face, hiding the hot streak of tears on his pale face as his other hand was pressing at his stomach.

“J-John,” Arthur began, hissing and seething, sniveling on the floor.

John’s eyes flicked up to where Arthur had been then back to his boyfriend on the floor. A stain of fresh red was on the white sheets, the pungent smell of blood now hitting his nostrils.

He bent and cradled Arthur in his arms, quickly grabbing the comforter and dragging it after them as he maneuvered out of the cabin.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re leaving now,” John tried to reassure Arthur, his face now hidden in the crook of John’s shoulder. His lips were pressed to the bite mark he left.

John shut off the lights, caught the front door closed with his ankle then carried Arthur to the passenger side of the SUV. He managed to open the door, set the comforter in the seat and eased Arthur to sit on top of it.

John’s hands went to grab Arthur’s flushed face, his eyes stung red from tears and his skin clammy. He nodded softly, shut the door after him and rounded the front of the SUV.

The hospital was fifteen minutes away from the cabin, it felt like it was hours away with every red light John subjected Arthur to. When they finally arrived, John drove under the emergency awning, abandoning the driver’s seat and rounding the car while shouting for someone to help.

He threw open Arthur’s door, grabbed his boyfriend in his arms and started his way into the emergency room with the bloody comforter in tow; they were stopped at the automatic doors, with one of the nurses driving out a gurney for John to lay Arthur on.

“I’ll be right in, okay? I’ll see you in a second,” John whispered, reassuring Arthur as his hands were clutching onto John’s arms.

The nurses pulled up the arm bars of the gurney, cutting their intermittent goodbye short. John barely remembered finding a parking spot, his vision tunneled and his mind focused on getting back to Arthur.

He didn’t think about calling anyone, John wanted to be right back by Arthur’s side. When he was finally inside again, John was met with one of the nurses.

“What is his name?” She asked, holding a clipboard out for John to take.

John blinked slowly, his eyelids fluttering mechanically as he stared at the beta woman’s face. He forgot how to speak if it weren’t directly to Arthur. His dry lips parted with a low exhale.

“Arthur. Van Der Linde.” John stated, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. “Is he okay?”

The beta woman took hold of John’s elbow, a steadying motion that John did not appreciate. “He’ll be fine. He’s an omega?”

John nodded slowly, looking to the paper again and seeing the words begin to swirl and distort against the white.

“C-can I sit with him?” He asked, looking up again, the energy starting to leave him the longer he was away from Arthur.

The beta woman stammered, looking over her shoulder to the rest of the emergency room, with Arthur in one of the rooms. John felt a ringing in his ears as the sounds of the room sank in, the beeping of heart monitors and the scurrying of nurses’ shoes on linoleum.

“Not yet, we have to take him upstairs. A doctor will be with you soon. You are his mate?”

John nodded once, a smirk almost tempting the corner of his mouth. There was no emotion behind it, his mouth twitching awkwardly before it fell again.

“Your name?”

“John Matthews.” His own name felt foreign on his tongue, speaking of himself was not the reason he was here. “I…need to be with him. Please.”

The nurse looked over her shoulder a second time, seeing Arthur’s room curtains shutting. She turned back to John, her teeth wringing her bottom lip.

“Okay, stay here for a second.”

John was left alone, stranded in the middle of the emergency room holding the clipboard in his stiff hands. His extremities went cold, the fuel in his gut begging to roar to life and fuel him to take a demand for respect.

He gulped, seeing the nurse return to him with her head hung low.

“We’ll put you in his room, he will meet you up there,” she said.

“Is he okay?” John asked again, this time raising his voice enough to startle the nurse and himself.

“Mr. Matthews,” the nurse began, cautiously walking him through the emergency room and to a nearby elevator. “The doctor will speak to you soon.”

At that, John was left in the elevator with another nurse. She was less compliant to his question, holding a pen out for John to fill out the clipboard in his hands.

“When you’re done, just set it at the front desk on the floor.”

John tried to look at the clipboard again, making out the long blank lines for answers next to questions he’d never considered. His eyes blinked one at a time, feeling out of his element.

“Please, tell me if he’s okay,” John pleaded, his top lip curling back to reveal his sharpened teeth.

The nurse was quick to grab onto his wrist with a secure metal clasp to follow. John looked down at his hand, noting the metal bracelet now weighing him down.

“I’m sorry, sir. Alpha aggression is not necessary in this hospital, this will come off when your mate is discharged.”

John snarled at the metal on his wrist, only for it to buzz irritably. He tried again, was met with a sharp sting.

“I’m just asking about my damn mate,” John said, now straining through his teeth. The bracelet on his wrist was now keeping the wildfire just under the surface, ulcering his stomach beyond comfort.

“He will be fine. You need to calm down.” The nurse said, an omega. She tapped her finger to the clipboard. “Get it filled out please.”

The elevator lurched, stopping on the floor; the omega nurse led John to a room, told him to sit outside of it and fill out the forms. John’s leg began to bounce the more he sat, staring at the form before taking hold of the pen and starting at the very top.

Name: Arthur Morgan Van Der Linde. Birthday: June 22 1996. Primary gender: Male. Epsilon gender: Omega (recessive).

After that, John couldn’t answer anything on the rest of the forms. ‘What is the reason for your visit?’ The sight of bright red blood flashed before John’s eyes again, remembering Arthur’s crumbled form on the floor.

His eyes began to water the more he thought about it, his mind sinking to the worst recesses of his mind. He needed to be wherever Arthur was, John felt like he was going to combust without him.

He tapped the pen to the paper, blinking away his tears and wrestling through his shaky breaths while he waited for an update on Arthur.

John was pacing the hallway beyond the double doors of the sectioned off floor. He held his phone to his ear, trying to call Mrs. Van Der Linde and let her know what was happening.

He knew that he’d hear about it from everyone if he didn’t at least try. John used his phone to call his parents, Abi, after calling and re-calling Mr. and Mrs. Van Der Linde’s separate numbers.

John lined his thumbnail between his teeth, focusing on his next step in a straight line. If his mind focused too much on Arthur when he wasn’t around, John would keel over and start to hyperventilate.

“Mrs. Van Der Linde,” John started when he was greeted by a voicemail message. “It’s John. I wanted to let you know, again, that Arthur is in the hospital. I will try to update you as soon as I can. Please call me back.”

He breathed over the line for a moment too long then ended the call as a hand clasped on his shoulder. John jolted, shrugging the hand away and turning to see the doctor.

“I-sorry,” John said, his hand going to worry his brow. “Is there any update on Arthur? He’s okay, right?”

The doctor was a slender man, his dark hair slicked back and parted three-fourths over his left ear. John tentatively sniffed in the man’s direction. A beta; his shoulders relaxed an inch.

“Mr. Matthews, I’m Dr. Gray. Do you have a minute to talk somewhere private?”

John’s mind boggled at the question. “Is Arthur okay? At least tell me that.”

The doctor scoffed, an emotionless action that punctuated what he was about to say. “Arthur is fine. I did want to talk to you about something while he’s resting.”

John looked over Dr. Gray’s shoulder in the direction of the hospital wing where Arthur was resting. He nodded once, hoping that it would speed along the process and bring him a step closer.

Dr. Gray’s hand went out for John’s shoulder again, guided him down the hallway to a glassed-in waiting room. “Let’s have a seat.”

John was hestitant, taking an order from the doctor, his hands bracing the chair while his legs were too antsy to bend. He’d spent enough time sitting; John exhaled heavily, forced himself down on the green cushion with his nails working their way into the wooden arms of the chair.

Dr. Gray sat down before him, folding his hands between his legs and leaning forward with an expressionless sigh. “Mr. Matthews, are you aware of Recessive Omega Projection?”

John’s brows furrowed, trying to follow Dr. Gray’s question. He slowly shook his head, leaning forward to catch onto the man’s low words. There were no other people in the waiting room but he was trying to be polite as if there were.

“Recessive Omega Projection, or ROPS, is…an archaic procedure that omegas are subject to when they are young.”

John nodded once, not seeing the immediate correlation between this and Arthur. He waited for Dr. Gray to continue, to connect the dots, because John’s mind was a dense fog unless he was right next to Arthur.

His hands folded between his thighs, his nails now working into his knuckles as his leg began to bounce. “Okay.”

“I mention this to you because…Arthur was subjected to that. The only way I know this is because of the mechanism used in ROPS is an outdated copper alloy.”

John’s throat went dry. “A-and that’s what caused the bleeding?”

Dr. Gray cleared his throat, ducked his head with a short shake. He raised his head again, met John’s eyes and exhaled steadily. “It was a combination of things. The copper alloy was also caught with a piece of latex.”

A hard bolt of lightning shot down John’s back, making the wildfire simmer and eventually die. He was now ready to wither away. He’d caused this.

“Also the ectopic pregnancy,” Dr. Gray stated plainly.

The words brough John out of his pained wallow for a moment, his eyes narrowing at the beta man’s face. “Ectopic?”

Dr. Gray blinked instead of nodded. “With…the ROPS device homing itself in Arthur’s underdeveloped womb, the egg never left his fallopian tube.”

John didn’t know what to even begin to say. Arthur was pregnant. Arthur _was_ pregnant. His heart soared for a half-life then imploded on impact. “H-how far along was he?”

“About six weeks,” Dr. Gray stated.

The math wasn’t hard to do, John remembered it as Arthur’s heat. John folded his lips together, trying to will the welling tears from his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry over such trivial things, John just wanted to be at Arthur’s side when he woke up.

“So, the device and the ectopic…are removed?” John asked.

Dr. Gray nodded then. “It was all removed. Hopefully, with a few hormone injections, Arthur will be able to carry any pregnancies to term.”

John prodded his tongue between his dry lips, sniffled and tried to sit back casually. It all felt odd, there was no comfort in sitting here, feeling scrutinized by the beta when all he wanted was to get back to his mate.

“Why…is it called Recessive Omega Projection?” John asked, the only other question he had that would probably not be answered in the remaining time alone with the doctor.

“It is exclusively used on male omegas. There is no such thing as a dominant or recessive omega, all humans have their own complications when it comes to gender and childbirth. It is natural. However,” Dr. Gray began, straightening up in his seat. “around the age that our secondary gender presents, some alpha guardians take it upon themselves to protect their offspring.”

“Male omegas affected with ROPS end up presenting at betas after a steady medication use. They are also subjected to the copper alloy device as early as 13 years old. Their heats are unregulated then, but less intense than the female counterparts.”

John narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “How does this happen?”

Dr. Gray shook his head. “It doesn’t happen anymore. By the time that Mr. Van Der Linde was 13, the practice was already condemned. Only the most withdrawn of doctors, those who are very old-fashioned, would execute such a violation on human and Epsilon rights.”

John’s knee stopped bouncing then, his tears blinked free and beaded on his eyelashes. To have to explain any of this to Arthur would be torturous. He’d only be there as support, John knew he’d eventually leave something out.

“Can I see him?”

John stood in the doorway of Arthur’s room, the bed light shining over his sleeping boyfriend in a hospital gown. In a plastic bag on a bedside table was Arthur’s bloodied clothes and the comforter in another bag at the foot of the bed.

Arthur’s wrist was decorated with wires, an IV attached in the crook of his arm, his pointer finger clamped with a heart monitor. John felt his body lurch, ready to pounce and sidle up in Arthur’s bed.

He was ready to curl over him, protect him from whatever else he couldn’t see. But now he feared moving. Arthur looked so fragile in the bed, propped up slightly and his hair combed back from his face.

His pale, dry lips were parted in a soft snore. His arms were folded over the hospital blanket and John couldn’t bring himself to take a step.

John swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, inched into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. His hands went to fold over Arthur’s upturned feet but he stopped himself. The coals in his gut were now sparking and stinging at him to move closer, but John was fearing to touch.

Arthur groaned lowly, turning his head on the pillow before forcing his closed eyes to open a slit.

John froze, feeling Arthur staring at him and holding him still.

“Hey baby,” Arthur muttered, a gravelly tired tone along with his southern drawl pulling at John’s heart.

John leaned forward then, moved around to the side of Arthur’s bed and pulled up a chair. His hand folded over Arthur’s, squeezed at his cold fingers.

“Hey,” John began, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You were right to be worried, I guess,” Arthur croaked, tempting a tired smile on his lips.

John tried at a smirk, his eyes watering again. He leaned forward, rested his chin on the bed and brought Arthur’s palm up to kiss it. “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur huffed, closing his eyes again. “You didn’t do nothing, John.”

John stared up at Arthur, noting the harsh white light beating down over his head. Arthur was angelic and pristine, once again untouched and quiet.

“Wait ‘til you hear about it,” John whispered. “I gave you an infection.”

Arthur lolled his head away from John then back. “If I’d listened to you sooner, it probably wouldn’t have happened.”

“Stop,” John said, giving Arthur’s palm another soft kiss. He wanted to tell him that the news only got worse from there, all the way up to the mistrust of his own parents.

Arthur hummed then, lifting his heavy eyelids again and looking at John. “Hey, you know what I get while I’m in here?”

“What?”

“Orange jello,” Arthur said softly, his lips curling into a full smile.

John fought the tears in his eyes while he smiled back at Arthur. “Orange jello, huh? We have to break up. Lime green all the way.”

Arthur exhaled amusedly, timidly hissing afterwards. “Fuck. You infected me. That’s not fair.”

John’s smile faltered, teetered between a heavy frown and back to keep up the appearance of amusement. His gut was now oil. “I know, babe. You don’t deserve that. You have whatever flavor you want.”

John pressed his now wet lips to Arthur’s palm, never let them leave while he hid the sudden streaking of tears on his cheeks. He wanted to keep apologizing for everything that Arthur didn’t know yet.

“I love you,” Arthur whispered, closing his eyes as he tried to maneuver his hand in John’s to cup his cheek.

“I love you, honey,” John said, raising his head and taking Arthur’s hand to hold his cheek.

John fell asleep at Arthur’s bedside, only after the sun rose the following morning. He’d watched Arthur sleep, toss his head back and forth on his pillow; he’d watched the nurses walk in and check Arthur’s vitals, his IV and catheter.

It wasn’t until he saw Dr. Gray walk in and check on Arthur himself that John felt comfortable to rest his eyes for a moment.

He was awake again when Arthur’s hand twitched near his face. John jolted upright, his hands going for his pockets as they started to vibrate. He fished Arthur’s phone free first and looked at the number before answering.

“Hello?”

“John, is Arthur okay? What happened?” Mrs. Van Der Linde was frantic over the phone with two quieter voices behind her. She shooed them away, shifting over the receiver.

John sat further back from Arthur’s bed then stood and walked to the window of the room. “Hi, yes he’s okay now. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Well, explain. Get started, where is he?” Mrs. Van Der Linde asked more questions as she took in each breath.

“He…got an infection,” John began, folding his hand to rub the back of his neck. “And it got so bad that he had to have surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he out? He’s awake?”

John nodded along to Susan’s questioning, knowing that it was normal for her to do what he had.   
“He’s out. He’s sleeping right now.”

“Should I drive down there? Damned Dutch ain’t even here,” Susan said, her voice quaking at the last half. Her tone threatened tears in John’s eyes and he sniffed, shaking his head.

“It’s going to be okay, Mrs. Van Der Linde. I can call you back with every update I get,” John said, lowering his voice as he looked down at the hospital parking lot.

“He-he’s alright, though? You’re gonna take care of my boy, right?” Susan asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not leaving his side.” John glanced over his shoulder to Arthur, saw his hand that John once occupied twitching out for recognition.

He cut back over to Arthur’s bedside, took hold of his boyfriend’s hand and gave it a tender squeeze.

“I want a call every hour, John. You give my son a kiss on the head for me. If anything changes, please let me know so I can leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes ma’am,” John said, lowering his cheek to rest on the bed. “You know everything as soon as I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not. 
> 
> suffer.


	21. Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns to control his emotions when it comes to Arthur, but how can he do that when he feels overprotective? 
> 
> Arthur must abide by the new rules of his life for the time being.

John spent most of the day watching Arthur sleep. He held onto Arthur's hand, peppered his palm with kisses and mapped the calmed sleep on Arthur's face. One of the nurses, the omega that put the cuff on John, came in and left a tray of food for Arthur whenever he woke up again. 

John stared at her, let his eyes drag after her and minding every move she made. She offered a polite smile to John as she stopped in the door, then closed it afterwards. John sneered softly, looking down at the metal on his wrist then back to Arthur, feeling his hand twitch in his hold. 

"Hey babe, you hungry?" John asked, his husky voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur groaned, moving to sit up slowly. "Did you go back to the cabin?" 

John furrowed his brows, sat up. "You kidding? Why would I do that?"

Arthur exhaled, exasperated, retracting his hand from John's hold to adjust himself in bed. He moved towards his IV, leaving a sliver of bed open. "Johnny, I'm okay now. I promise."

"I don't care, I'm not leavin'," John said, smiling softly at Arthur. 

Arthur half-smirked, his hand patting at the empty bit of bed next to him. "Get up here, dummy." 

John was careful to move, resting his leg on the bed before moving the table over Arthur's lap. He sat back, minding his body space.

"How do you feel?" John asked, his hand carefully touching Arthur's back and rubbing. 

Arthur braced his elbows on the table, held his head in his hands. "I feel sore." 

John nodded, gingerly leaning in and resting his chin on Arthur's tense shoulder. "But better than before?"

"Yeah," Arthur said with an affirmative huff. 

John's hand rubbed further down Arthur's back, moving the flowy fabric of his hospital gown against his skin. "Did they tell you what happened?"

Arthur dropped a hand from his head, turned to squish his cheek to John. "Very little. I had an infection and then surgery." 

John nodded, folding his lips together as his nose nudged at Arthur's neck. He exhaled heavily, sat up and stared into Arthur's now murky blue eyes. How was he going to explain all of it? John had to at least tell him the bare truth.

"So, You were --" 

A knock at the door cut John short, the doctor slowly cracking it open. "Hello, hello. Arthur, so happy to see you're awake." 

Dr. Gray stepped in, closed the door behind him as Arthur raised his hand in a wave and John nodded in acknowledgement. The doctor grabbed at the chair on the side of Arthur's bed and sat down, setting the grey metal clipboard he was holding at the foot of Arthur's bed.

"Mr. Van Der Linde, I know that we didn't get to talk a lot about what was happening when you came in, but now that you seem to be doing better, I decided to come in so we could have a chat." Dr. Gray began. 

John's hand on Arthur's back slowly drifted around Arthur's waist, his other hand reaching up to hold Arthur's hand on the table. John was ready to be Arthur's anchor much more than Arthur was to him. Arthur glanced over at John then nodded at the doctor. 

"Alright, don't make me nervous, doc. It's not that serious, right? This one just gave me a bad infection." Arthur smiled softly, his free hand reaching to pat at John's cheek. 

Dr. Gray was unmoved, offering a polite smile as he sat back in the chair. He folded his hands together, met Arthur's eyes with a deep exhale. John felt Arthur's body go rigid suddenly and Arthur hissed softly under his breath. 

"Oh," Arthur began and John gave Arthur's hand a squeeze. 

He sat up as straight as he could, ready to take Arthur's tired weight on his side. John gave Dr. Gray another nod for him to continue. 

"Arthur," Dr. Gray began. "While you did have an infection, it was a combination of things. The latex from the ripped condom became attached to an outdated copper IUD embedded in your uterus." 

John gulped, remembering the stomach acid wash up like a tidal wave from that bit of news. He offered a look at Arthur, his face unreadable and concerning. 

"An IUD?" Arthur asked. 

"It's a device that is used as a form of birth control, however, the one that we found in you was a type used specifically for male omegas." Dr. Gray's voice was slow and easy, trying to explain and not agitate either of the mates. 

"I...never asked for anything like that," Arthur said, turning to John with his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm a recessive, I can't get pregnant. Why would I ever ask for that?"

"Arthur, honey," John said, firm and low. "Just...listen to the doctor." 

Dr. Gray nodded to Arthur's question. "I know you didn't ask for it, Arthur. It's a procedure that some parents or guardians subject their offspring to. That is why you firmly believe you're recessive. It's called Recessive Omega Projection." 

John felt Arthur's shoulders tense, the muscles in his back flexing as he tried to work through the confusion on his face. John looked into Arthur's eyes, mapping the confusion and offput anger bubbling through the normally serene lake blue. 

"It's...an archaic procedure. Older doctors used to implant copper IUDs into male omegas so they could present as betas." John summed up, his voice low as his hand retreated from Arthur's waist and cupped his cheek. 

Arthur's eyes began to water suddenly, an action that made John's gut sear. John brushed his thumb along the soft skin under Arthur's eye. "I know, baby, it's a lot. I'm so sorry."

Dr. Gray cleared his throat monotonously, sitting back in his chair to wait. John ignored him, his eyes never leaving Arthur's. He couldn't let this man continue to hurt Arthur, to emotionally harm him. 

"But that's not all of it, Arthur," John said, his voice lowering to a whisper. His fingers twitched along Arthur's jaw, pet softly at his boyfriend's skin. "You had an ectopic pregnancy. A little bundle of fertilized cells in your fallopian tube."

John gulped after he spoke, seeing the lakes of Arthur's eyes overflow with water. His nostrils flared, the tears brinking and breaking down his flushed cheeks. John barely moved, his hand squeezing at Arthur's on the table. "It was just all a bit too much, they culminated that infection. But it's okay now, they fixed it all up." 

"If and when you're ready, you can get started on hormones to return your natural omega levels." Dr. Gray stated, cutting through the quiet, hushed speaking between the mates. "Your uterus is still underdeveloped due to the IUD, it would take about two years until it would be the standard size of an adult omega." 

Arthur's eyes barely cut from John's, not even a glance over to the doctor. John swiped the streaks of tears free from Arthur's face, sniffled in response.

"It's okay, you don't have to make a decision now. Doc, we're done here." John said over his shoulder. 

"I did want to talk a bit more about ROPS recovery as soon as poss--"

"We're done here." John said, firmer and a bit louder. His teeth grit, not bothering to see that the doctor jolted in his seat by John's tone. John was honed in on Arthur, not for once taking his eyes away from him. 

Arthur leaned into John, nuzzling his face into the mark on John's neck. John retracted his hand from Arthur's, circled both arms around his boyfriend's waist and simply waited until the doctor was out of the room before gently squeezing Arthur close. 

He rested on his side, let Arthur move in as close as he could before he released a shaky breath. John was quiet, unsure of what to say if there was anything. His hand snaked up, combed through Arthur's chestnut hair as he worked up a soft purr. 

Arthur continued to breathe wearily, his hot tears dripping onto John's skin. 

"Talk to me," John whispered, ducking his mouth to Arthur's ear. "Baby, say something."

"I used to go to the doctor a lot, with my dad," Arthur whispered, barely pulling away from John's neck. His voice was thick, the spit in his mouth now a wet cement. "Did he do this to me?"

John continued combing through Arthur's tresses, his other hand making soft circles in the middle of Arthur's back. He couldn't answer that; he barely offered a shrug. 

"I don't know, Arthur. But it's out now." John tried. 

Arthur sniffled, bringing his face away from John's neck to look at him. John's hand swiped away more tears, cleaned up Arthur's dribbling nose. His face was red, his nose pinched just the same as his eyes were glistening with tears. 

"Yeah, too little too late," Arthur said, rubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his palm. "Goddamn." 

John tried at a smile, saddened only further by Arthur's natural demeanor reduced to tears in seconds. 

"And I was fucking pregnant? I could've been pregnant this whole time." Arthur's face went from distress to eye-widening concern. He stared at John again, the welling tears in his eyes twinkling before breaking again. "The condom ripped." 

John huffed glumly, his mouth contorting in a twist of concern. "Yeah, babe." 

He could see it now on Arthur's face, whether it was trying to find someone to blame or if it was anyone's fault. "It got caught on the thing." 

John didn't want to let anything show on his face, no longer understanding if Arthur was upset with his father or him. Arthur didn't leave John though, it was a good sign for the time being. Arthur shook his head, a twisted grin growing on his lips as another row of tears streaked his cheeks. 

"Arthur?" John questioned, his voice once again small. 

Arthur leaned in, quickly kissing John's lips. "Your dumbass saved me." 

John's brows furrowed then, unsure of the logic. "I gave you the infection." 

Arthur's eyelids lulled. "I know, but if you didn't, I would've lost all my hormones." 

John was stone, his hand going to Arthur's forehead. "Did they operate on your brain too?"

Arthur instantly broke, his face beaming through his tears. "Johnny." 

"I _infected_ you, Arthur. I've been expecting some rage, a bit of yelling, maybe even a cold shoulder. I was, I still am fucking terrified." 

"You didn't do it on purpose," Arthur said, his smile dropping again. He curled back into John, let him fold his arms around Arthur again.

"I know, but I'm still sorry." And John was ready to apologize and do everything in his power to make up for it, for almost ruining Arthur entirely. 

Arthur was quiet about the ectopic, he guessed it wasn't as viable a topic as the betrayal of his father. 

"You shouldn't be," Arthur muttered.

"But I am," John replied. And he would be, for his sake and to make up for the vacuum of blame. He ducked his head down, buried his nose in Arthur’s hair. “Also, I called your mom.”

“What?” Arthur jerked his head up, causing John to bite on his tongue.

“Arthur, I had to,” John said immediately. “You are in the _hospital_. You were bleeding.”

Arthur brought a hand up to fold over his brow. “I know, I know. But you didn’t have to call my mom. Oh god, does she know anything?”

John shook his head. “I told I’d call her back every hour, let her know when there were any updates.”

Since Arthur was sleeping, there wasn’t much to update on. He just sent a picture to Mrs. Van Der Linde and told her he’d call her later.

Arthur bowed his forehead to John’s collarbone with a groan. “How the fuck do we explain this?”

John folded his hand to the back of Arthur’s neck, circled his fingers in the soft hairs at his nape. “I mean, tell her about the infection. I messed up, I could’ve seriously hurt you.”

“Shut up, it’s not your fault.” Arthur said with an exhale. “But I can tell her that much. God, I just know she’d lose her shit on everything else.”

John agreed with a timid nod; he wasn’t even sure if Mrs. Van Der Linde liked him, it would only make it worse that he, an alpha, just came in and turned everything worse. Even though he hadn’t. Arthur was right, it wasn’t _entirely_ John’s fault.

He’d just been young, dumb and full of…

John groaned at himself, pressing his lips to the top of Arthur’s head again. “We’ll talk to her.”

Arthur made a low noise in agreement, his nose lining up John’s collarbone before exhaling deeply. John’s hand pulled back Arthur’s hair from his ear.

“I love you,” John whispered, his eyes starting to lull with the comforting warmth of Arthur in his arms.

He was not ready to let him go again, not until Arthur was better. John was tempted to squeeze Arthur closer, conform their bodies together but let his arms ease up on their hold instead.

John spared a glance at Arthur when he heard snoring and huffed to himself. He nuzzled his cheek on top of Arthur’s, fighting his eyelids closing until he couldn’t anymore.

John was woken up by the nurse tapping the end of his boot. He squinted an eye, looked down to the end of the bed and noted the omega nurse holding the standard metal clipboard in her two hands.

“I need to check his vitals, okay? Don’t make any sudden movements,” she whispered, moving around to Arthur’s side of the bed and to his monitor.

John nodded softly, shifting his arm from under Arthur’s tethered arm slowly and waited. Arthur was still sound asleep, using John’s bicep as a pillow, his mouth cracked open with a low snore and a bit of drool to follow.

The omega nurse was quick and quiet in her assessments, writing down numbers on the screen before checking at the IV tether in Arthur’s arm. John scrutinized her every move through narrowed eyes, withholding the growl in his throat lest he triggered the shock bracelet on his wrist.

Without another word, the nurse turned on her heels and left. She gently closed the door after her and John’s stare softened as he looked down at Arthur. He hummed, nudged his nose along Arthur’s sideburn before returning to sleep.

Arthur groaned lowly then. “I love you too.”

Later that evening, John was pacing at the foot of Arthur’s bed while Arthur was on the phone with his mother.

“Momma, I—” Arthur began, only to be cut off by Mrs. Van Der Linde’s high-pitched screeching.

John’s thumb was lined between his teeth, only listening as Arthur pulled the receiver from his ear to let his mom screech out her concerns and her upset that no one was able to give her any update.

“Momma, I’m okay,” Arthur said reassuringly, sparing a glance at John and catching his eye. He smiled softly. “It’s not that bad, I promise. It was just a little infection.”

“A little infection?” Mrs. Van Der Linde parroted before going off again that infections are no small matter.

John stopped at the foot of the bed, his hands resting on Arthur’s upturned feet and giving his toes a tender squeeze. Arthur smirked at that, then shook his head at his mom.

“I swear, it ain’t a big deal, mom. John got me to the hospital, I’m all better now.”

“What caused the infection, Arthur?”

At that, John’s face scrunched in embarrassment. He was ready for his skin to explode in fever, the blame already weighing down on his shoulders. Arthur watched his boyfriend fold over the foot of the bed, hiding his face in Arthur’s calves.

“Uh, my damn heat toy.” Arthur lied immediately. “I was really reckless with it.”

John angled his face up from the covers, quirking his brows in confusion at Arthur. Arthur reached forward; tousled John’s dark hair then folded his index finger to his lips.

“Arthur Morgan. I thought you knew better,” Mrs. Van Der Linde began.

John’s brows knitted further, sitting upright and moving to the side of the bed. “No, Mrs. Van Der Linde it was –”

“Stupid, I know,” Arthur said, his palm finding its way to clamp over John’s mouth. “I’ll try to do better, mom. I’m sorry to worry you. Can you send me a picture of my insurance card?”

With a deep exhale, Mrs. Van Der Linde agreed to do what Arthur asked and ended the call with: “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. Call me when you leave.”

Arthur ended the call and unclamped his hand from John’s mouth.

“What the hell was that? Arthur, you should’ve told her.”

Arthur folded a hand to his forehead, placed his phone down on the bed table. “I’m sorry, I panicked. It seemed way easier to tell her that. You think I want my mom to know that we were so vigorous in our _fucking_ that the condom tore?”

John grumbled, his face slowly going feverish like he’d feared. He leaned forward, resting his forehead to Arthur’s shoulder with his teeth playfully, tenderly, nibbling at his boyfriend. “I wouldn’t have worded it like that.”

Arthur groaned in agreement, bowing his head back to the ceiling. “How would you have worded it, huh?”

“’A condom tore’. No need for details,” John said, shaking his head.

“You really think the question would end there? ‘How, Arthur? Did you? And have you? Are you?’” Arthur said, posing a few half-filled questions.

“That’s not fair for you. You took all the damn blame.” John raised his head, stared at Arthur from under his browline.

“You’ll make it up to me,” Arthur said with a soft grin.

John hid a roll of his eyes then dropped his head to Arthur’s shoulder again. “You know I will.”

Arthur rested his hand to the back of John’s neck, fingers curling in the hair at his nape. “Can we leave now? I’m ready to go back to the cabin.”

John offered a shrug as Arthur forced a stretch to the side of his bed and pressed the ‘nurse call’ button. John sat up at the door opening, seeing the omega nurse curiously poking her head in.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Arthur nodded. “Could…we talk to the doctor?”

“Arthur, you can’t rush healing.” John offered under his breath.

Arthur shushed his boyfriend from the corner of his mouth and smiled at the omega nurse. She nodded once, glancing over to John and back at Arthur.

“I’ll find Dr. Gray.”

She left immediately, shutting the door behind her and Arthur turned to sneer at John. “I am tired of pissing through a tube, John. I want to go back.”

John hid a gulp. “I know you do. I do too.”

“I want to sleep in a good bed, dammit. How the hell do they expect me to heal when I’m lying on the damn scar?” Arthur asked, reaching to touch at the small of his back and wincing.

John jolted suddenly, his hand grabbing Arthur’s to pull his touch from his surgical scar. “Don’t do that.”

Arthur dropped his hand to the bed. “Fine. But, I want to go back. You know this isn’t how I wanted to spend my time with you.”

John tried at a soft smile. “I know, babe. Sorry I screwed it up.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I ain’t blaming you, John. I’m just saying that all _this_ ,” Arthur’s hand hovered over his stomach in a circle. “screwed it up.”

“Your dick did it?” John joked. He pointed a finger down at Arthur’s crotch. “It’s all your fault!”

Arthur guffawed, shoving John away from him. “You’re an idiot.”

A knock at the door interrupted the boys; Dr. Gray poked his head in through the crack of the door.

“Hey, we feeling a bit better?” He asked, eyes trained on Arthur.

Arthur sniffed, his hand going for his face to make sure there weren’t any tear streaks on his cheeks. John straightened up on the bed, shifted closer to Arthur.

Dr. Gray stepped inside, shut the door behind him with John taking notice. The doctor sat down in the chair by the foot of Arthur’s bed and set down his metal clipboard.

“What can I help you with?” Dr. Gray asked, offering a polite smile and crossing his arms tight before his chest.

“I’d like to go home,” Arthur said with a deep exhale.

Dr. Gray sat up straighter at that, blinking in a sort of disbelief. He uncrossed his arms, looked to John then back at Arthur. “Have you walked around yet?”

Arthur shook his head. Dr. Gray reached for his clipboard, flipped through the limited pages on it.

“Has Penelope talked about your treatment options?”

Arthur shook his head again. John glanced over at Arthur then planted a foot to the floor.

“You’re here. Why don’t you just tell him?” John asked, withholding the agitation in his voice. He was ready to snap at Dr. Gray again, not at all forgetting how Arthur reacted to him before.

Dr. Gray exhaled with a short nod. “That is true, Mr. Matthews.”

He dropped the pages down and set the clipboard back down on the bed. Dr. Gray sat back and crossed an ankle over his knee.

“Alright, Mr. Van Der Linde. We have some treatment options for your lack of hormones due to…” Dr. Gray trailed off seeing John narrow his eyes.

Arthur’s hand gripped at John’s wrist and John reeled back, cutting his eyes from the doctor.

“So,” Dr. Gray began again with an awkward clearing of his throat. “There is a shot that you would have to take for the next six months and regular monitoring of your uterus’s growth. Or, there is also a pill that would need to regularly maintained daily for the same amount of time.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “And both treatments are transferrable to my other doctor?”

John glared over to Arthur then. “The same fucking doctor that did this to you? Absolutely not.”

Dr. Gray raised his brows. “You don’t have a different physician? What about your mother?”

John’s eyes never left Arthur’s reddening face. “You didn’t even ask her about that.”

“It’s alright,” Dr. Gray said, sitting forward. “If you have your insurance information, I can get Penelope to look up some anti-ROPS doctors in your area. And back to that subject, your admittance has been noted as being around your heat time, correct?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, giving John’s wrist another squeeze for him to stop.

John exhaled deeply, dropping his forehead to Arthur’s shoulder and shut his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Unfortunately, we did have to administer an emergency heat suppressant to do the surgery. We’ve been trying to ween you off of it with the IV heat suppressant, but if you leave it will be very sudden that you will go into heat.”

Arthur grumbled deep in his chest at that. “Okay.”

“Which,” Dr. Gray began, dropping his foot to the floor and sitting forward with his forearms bracing his thighs. “brings me to my final point. John, this includes you too.”

John raised his head at his name, looking over at Dr. Gray’s dull eyes. The beta man looked between the mates, intertwined his fingers together and let them wait a moment.

“For the sake of healing, and with the extended heat that you will soon experience, you will have to abstain from sexual activity for at the least six weeks.”

John snorted lowly, earning a jab in the elbow from Arthur. “Only six weeks?”

“At the most, eight weeks. With everything going on with Mr. Van Der Linde’s body, it will require a lot of healing. The incision is small, but the removal of the ectopic cells and the IUD has made you very fertile with fresh cells.”

Dr. Gray stopped talking to John as if Arthur wasn’t present and turned to Arthur himself. “I’m sure you’re not ready for another pregnancy, and I’d advise against it with you also taking hormones.”

Arthur groaned. “I understand, Doc. Is there anything you’d suggest to get through the healing process?”

Dr. Gray sat back in his chair. “It would be best for you to probably take to nesting. Nesting and scenting would be the simplest in staving off natural heat mental processes. It would be also be best to return to your normal routine of exercise and healthy eating habits.”

John reached his hand up, cradled Arthur’s cheek with a reassuring pat. “It’s just winter break. You’ll sleep in and feel better in no time.”

“That’s a good outlook, Mr. Matthews.” Dr. Gray inputted then pointed to Arthur. “You will feel a little sore for the first couple of days but it will pass.”

Arthur hid a roll of his eyes, ducking his head to John’s shoulder. “Great, is that all?”


	22. True Affection (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur return back to the cabin and preserve their "chastity" vow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better known as, lusty lovebird knuckleheads must keep their hands off of each other but make it so much harder than it has to be. 
> 
> Also known as, Arthur being so very flirty and John is oblivious/too aware of his boyfriend's efforts. 
> 
> Orrrrr, hot guys must not hot. Dicks go brrr.

Dr. Gray was not wrong, neither Arthur nor John could deny that. He'd even suggested that heated seats, while they would feel good, were not helpful in the healing process. John pushed Arthur's wheelchair out of the room with him holding the bag of his soiled clothes and comforter. 

"Still want some french toast when we get back?" John asked, stopping before the elevator and pushing the down button.

Arthur blew air from his pursed lips up at John. "With strawberries?"

"Of course, baby," John said, resting his chin on top of Arthur's head. 

Arthur pouted out his bottom lip as John pushed the wheelchair into the elevator; he turned them around with Penelope stepping in after them.

"Mr. Van Der Linde, Mr. Matthews, before I forget," she began, taking John's wrist occupied with the metal bracelet. 

She swiped her badge over the clasp of the bracelet, her free hand held underneath to catch the open bracelet. John hid a sneer at the contraption as it left his wrist; he folded his hands in to rub at his wrist as he stared at the nurse. 

"I'm sorry, but it is hospital policy," she tried but John was no longer listening, the boil within him long gone. 

He reached for the elevator button with the doors closing after Penelope left. Arthur reached up to kiss John's cheek. 

"Can we get powdered sugar too?" he asked. 

John grinned then, with Arthur's mouth trailing up to nibble at his earlobe. "You can just ask, you don't have to butter me up. I'm already putty." 

Arthur chuckled lowly, into John's ear. He felt himself melt at the noise, the depth of his laughter wiggling its way down his spine and through to his fingertips. 

"So, I don't have to play the sick card?" Arthur asked.

John scoffed in amusement. “I mean, it doesn’t hurt.” He pecked Arthur’s temple then set the brake on Arthur’s wheelchair. “So, powdered sugar, strawberries. You want some bacon too?”

“Are you seriously being this sweet just because I’m leaving the hospital?”

“Absolutely not,” John said. “I’d do all this no matter what, Art.”

Arthur looked over his shoulder to John, his arms crossed over the handles of the wheelchair. He smiled softly, his pouty pink lips parting to reveal pearly teeth.

“Johnny,” Arthur said with a soft purr.

John reached up, cradling Arthur’s cheek before leaning him back to kiss his opposite. “I’m taking that as a yes on bacon.”

“And hot chocolate,” Arthur added, his smile curling into his cheeks so John could feel it.

“Nothing but the best,” John said as the elevator lurched to a stop and opened on the first floor of the hospital.

Arthur made it a full ten minutes out of the parking lot before the heat set in. John helped him into his passenger seat, with a little careful handling, and was ready to buckle his seatbelt before his nose was assaulted with the sticky sweet smell of slick.

He instantly folded his head in Arthur’s lap, working through the scent seeping between Arthur’s thighs and his slick dampening his hospital scrubs. John held his breath, scrunched his nose, holding onto the scent in his mouth until it became tastes.

Arthur whimpered with a pained hiss to follow, his thighs slowly prying apart.

“John,” he said, warning, his hand itching to bring John further between his legs and hold him there.

“I’m sorry,” John said, choked, standing up with his breath lodged in his throat. “Let’s get you back to the cabin.”

He minded Arthur’s leg closing the door then rounded the front of the car, minding the snowy slush pushed against the parking barrier. John threw open his car door, climbed in and started the car.

He rolled down his window and cranked the heat, angling his head out of the window to fight the temptation of Arthur’s now heated, sticky sweet. John searched his mind for an equivalent to this type of temptation before and the best he could think of was waiting for his mother’s apple pie bake in the oven.

He rested his hand on the center console, open for Arthur’s taking, but was still surprised when his boyfriend took it. John spared a glance over to Arthur, saw that he’d brought his knees up to his chest and was holding his ankle to the slick spot of his pants.

“Honey, you should take the suppressant,” John said coaxingly.

Along with the packet of information for Arthur to find an anti-ROPS physician and instructions on how to take care of himself during his extended heat including a homemade “chastity belt” as John described it, Dr. Gray also prescribed a few emergency suppressant pills in case it was too much to sweat.

“He said use them _sparingly_.” Arthur said, whined, rubbing his ankle back and forth along the slick spot of his pants.

John’s throat tightened, eyes fighting to stay on the road while the dormant coals in his gut were starting to ignite. He’d almost forgotten what a fighting feeling it was, letting his alpha nature fuel his decisions for the past day or so.

“Arthur, stop doing that,” John said, nodding at Arthur’s gentle pressing of his ankle to the slick spot of his pants. “You might hurt yourself.”

Arthur spared a snarl, tilting on his hip before sitting on his ankle. “It feels better like this.”

He hid another pained hiss, leaning forward in his seat with his hand bracing the dashboard. John raised his brows. Arthur ducked his head down, expelling a couple labored pants while his hand squeezed John’s.

John leaned towards the open window, taking in another gulp of fresh air as his foot got heavier on the gas. While the lights were green, John was going to speed through each one and rush up the mountain as quickly as possible.

“We’re almost back, you can go to bed and I’ll clean the sheets.” John stated, focusing more on his tasks at hand rather than Arthur now further down on the dash, back lengthening with his hips angling towards presentation.

“Deep breaths, baby,” John said, looking over at Arthur when he retracted his hand.

Arthur whined again, his hand going to pull down the back of his pants, but John caught his wrist. “Arthur.”

“Johnny,” Arthur mewled, resting his cheek to the dash and pouting over at John. His lake eyes were now reduced to puddles, dark stones now dilated and hazy.

“We’re almost home, we’re almost back.” John repeated a couple times, resting Arthur’s hand back to the console and holding onto it.

Arthur’s hand clenched suddenly, his short nails digging into John’s knuckles, before the strength slowly dissipated with more time passing. By the time they made it up to the mountain, John’s face was close to red from holding onto his breaths and Arthur was begging for water.

John parked and stopped the car, rolling up his window as he left. He heaved in a few deep breaths of fresh air, let his lungs recuperate from the exercise they were being put through, then went around to Arthur’s side of the car.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed. I’ll make you some French toast.” John said, grabbing and cradling his large boyfriend in his arms.

He managed to kick the door closed behind him, walk slowly up the stairs and open the front door before setting Arthur on his feet only to watch him crumble to his knees and fold over, lazily presenting and quivering.

The seat of his pants were absolutely soaked, despite the “chastity belt” padding that was meant to keep slick in. John shut and locked the door behind him, did his best to ignore the wet teal fabric now contorting along the curves of Arthur’s butt.

“Come on, bud,” John said, bending and grabbing Arthur again. This time, he curled Arthur’s arms around his neck and braced his thighs at his waist then carried him back to the bedroom.

John stepped into the room and was met with the stale scent of blood along with the terrible flash of the previous events. With a deep exhale, he shook his head and backed out of the room, going to the next room on the left.

Opening the door, John immediately recognized it as Arthur’s room. The painted oak walls were decorated with more framed sketches, each page of one particular forest creature. The bed was a white birch frame with a buffalo plaid comforter.

John was gentle resting Arthur on his back, pulling the comforter back in the last second. When he let go, Arthur didn’t. He nuzzled his nose in the shell of John’s ear, angling his hips down against John’s waist with his thighs quaking and squeezing.

“Baby,” Arthur moaned into John’s ear, his arms tightening around the back of John’s neck and pressing their chests tight together.

John chuckled nervously, planting his hands on either side of Arthur and trying to pry himself away. “Arthur, how are you still so strong?”

Arthur laughed lightly, his voice now a sultry lilt. John forced his eyes closed to not roll them, pleased with the noise that was vibrating through his ear. Arthur’s fingers found their way up to the nape of John’s dark hair, curling them along the back of his neck.

John’s body went rigid, knowing that Arthur was surely buttering him up now and using all of his intimate quips against him. Arthur’s nose traced along the shell of John’s ear then up his sideburn with a soft sniffing.

“You smell great,” Arthur whispered, arching his back and pressing his chest further to John’s.

John remained firm, his hands clenching at the sheets before exhaling deeply and jerking himself out of Arthur’s hold.

Arthur pouted, his eyes wetting as his skin started to bead with sweat. John stared at his boyfriend, now reaching for his wet pants and peeling them off.

John’s jaw clenched as the sopping pants slipped off his calves, resting on his ankle hanging off the edge of the bed. He folded his hand over his mouth, realizing how much trouble he was actually in.

John quickly grabbed the wet pants with his free hand then rested Arthur’s ankle back on the bed. “I’ll get you some new clothes,” he said from behind his hand, backing out of the room and shutting the door.

In the hallway, John choked out a few more heaving gasps before realizing that he was still holding the offending clothing. He squeezed at the pants in his hand, fighting the primal urge to bury his face in them.

How they were going to get on in two weeks of heat was beyond John. He tossed the pants in the direction of the living room, swiped his hand on his jeans. John went Arthur’s bag in the main bedroom, stopping again to check the mattress for a bloodstain.

There was none and John let the minute relief rush through him then rifled through Arthur’s clothes before settling for a pair of boxers and sweatpants.

When he went back to the room, Arthur was now wiggled out of his “chastity belt” and on his belly, grinding against his mattress. John squeezed his eyes shut, not at all holding onto the glisten of Arthur’s cheeks in the crisp daylight.

“Honey,” John coaxed, taking a few tentative steps into the room before setting Arthur’s spare clothes at the foot of the bed. “Let’s try some nesting, huh? You can have all of my clothes and I’ll make you some French toast. Okay?”

Arthur raised his head up from the mattress, red with his brows furrowed in frustration. The gleam of sweat across his face was dampening his hairline and he was ready to work out of his shirt.

John sat down lightly on the edge of the bed, just far enough out of Arthur’s reach if he tried. “And a little scent, yeah? Come on, scent me.”

John left his arms open for Arthur to cut the distance and was expecting a long moment of waiting, but was met with Arthur’s face against his scent gland, nibbling at the mark on it and suckling the oil free.

John gulped, holding a few tainted breaths in as he attempted to do the same for Arthur, nudging his nose against his boyfriend’s leaking scent gland and dispersing the oil along his lips and chin.

“Deep breath,” John muttered, his hand roaming up to cradle the back of Arthur’s neck with his fingers curling in his warm chocolate tresses.

He held Arthur to his neck for a long moment, let his tickling tongue lap at his skin and bring his body to a level of heat he’d never thought of experiencing. John’s other hand tempted at his boyfriend’s hip, wanting to pull him into his lap but biting back the urge with his teeth clenched around his tongue.

Arthur’s lips curved around John’s scent gland, gave it a tender sucking before parting with a dry gasp. John opened his mouth to do the same, but felt the sudden urge to bite down on his skin, take his mind off of his heat.

“Alright,” John said softly, raising his head to kiss Arthur’s wet lips tenderly. “I’ll go get my clothes.”

Arthur groaned in response, both of his hands wedged between his knees and elbow folding his hardened cock up to his stomach.

“I’ll be quick, okay? Put the boxers on.” John ordered softly, standing again and leaving the door open as he went to grab his bag.

He returned and stood at the foot of the bed, turning over his bag filled with six weeks worth of winter clothing. John tossed a few articles in Arthur’s direction then tugged the comforter free from the mattress, making all of his clothes avalanche to the crisp white bedsheets.

“Have fun,” he said with a soft smile as Arthur grabbed one of his thermals and placed it over his pillow.

John stopped at the door, almost unwilling to leave a third time, but Arthur was no longer invested in him only in the clothing deposited before him. John took it as a good sign, it would work that way.

He dropped his bag at the doorway and went to the kitchen, grabbing Arthur’s wet pants from the living room floor and taking them to the laundry room in the far back of the cabin. While Arthur was occupied, John finally set to his mental task list: laundry, breakfast, cleaning.

He felt like a regular house husband by the time he was thinly slicing strawberries over what he deemed a fairly good-looking French toast for a novice. The edges looked crunchy and, while the bread itself was over-soaked, it browned up nicely and looked restaurant quality by the time John found powdered sugar in the pantry.

John also fixed a glass of water, carrying the two in each hand back to Arthur’s room. He tapped his knuckle to the open door, the sunlight dissipated from the bedroom with the amount of time he spent in the kitchen.

It was no longer breakfast, it was early dinner.

“Baby,” John began, smiling softly at the low piled ring of his clothing encasing Arthur curled in the middle. “French toast.”

Arthur slowly woke up, squinting an eye as he raised his head. His hair was unstyled and frizzy from static, strands falling around and in his face. John set the breakfast at the bedside table then turned on the lamp before capturing the full nest that Arthur had created in such little time.

“Looks good,” John said, his hand reaching to smooth down the stiffened ankle of one of his jeans. “How do you feel?”

Arthur groaned listlessly, sitting up fully before making a grabby hand for the glass of water. John obliged him, used the moment Arthur was occupied to smooth down the frizz of his hair.

“I feel like shit,” Arthur offered, his other hand going to rub at his back but John caught him with a quick reflex.

He would not hear another pained hiss from Arthur’s lips if he had any say about it. John exhaled, rested Arthur’s hand to the bed then pressed his lips to Arthur’s forehead.

“I’m sorry, but while you’re awake, would you like to take a shower after eating?” John asked, pulling back to cradle Arthur’s full cheek. “Maybe that’ll make you feel better?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, returning to his glass of water to finish it off. “You gonna join me?”

John shook his head; as tempting as it was, John wanted to stay a bit in his control and not isolated in the amplifier for Arthur’s infatuating scent. His breath was once again stagnant in his throat, warding him away from his boyfriend to find fresh air.

However, the coals in his gut had yet to subside in the time they left the hospital. John didn’t even think about how long this would have to last; not only through the heat but through John’s rut as well and with John’s constant want to hold onto Arthur.

Even now, John was wondering if he could take the time Arthur spent in the shower to lock himself in the laundry room and bury his face in the discarded hospital pants.

John’s brows furrowed, shaking his head a second time. “Sorry Arthur, can’t get me.”

“Then how will you know I won’t use the showerhead badly?” Arthur purred, his hand going up John’s chest and curving under his pectoral.

John backed away then, almost forced himself away with a sharp jump. “You’ll only slow your healing process. Take that eight weeks and make it twelve. You’ll never recover.” He tried at a joke. “Three heats and no relief? You’ll explode.”

Arthur hid a roll of his eyes, reaching forward to set his glass down. “It’s just a little blue balls, we’ll make it.”

John scoffed. “Oh, I know _I_ will. But you, no me, no toys, no fingers…”

Arthur quirked a brow then. “No fingers either?”

John spared a dry chuckle then. “No, Art, nothing. Celibacy means no sexual activity. You’ll be okay, you got me.”

“That doesn’t really help me here, bud,” Arthur said, the heel of his palm going to rub his forehead. “If anything, it makes it worse.”

John watched Arthur’s mind work itself through whatever was going on, the dried scent of slick now moistening in the air again. John’s eyes widened at the scent, more intense than before.

They made it to the third day of Arthur’s heat without fail. It was only met with John resorting to stuffing his nostrils with paper towels doused in Arthur’s original cologne and sleeping in Micah’s room across the hall.

Their routine would begin the same: John waking up, getting Arthur a glass of water, scenting, scenting a few articles of clothing Arthur picked out, breakfast, nap, lunch, nap, dinner, movie, sleep.

Most of those meals were met with Arthur refusing to eat, claiming that his stomach was turning over at the smell. John understood, but with Arthur not bulking up beforehand, he feared that his boyfriend would pass out in his own heat.

John no longer feared sitting in the same space as Arthur, especially with the clogged nostrils, and spent the time coaxing Arthur to eat, grooming his boyfriend’s now unruly hair.

Now, he was trapped with Arthur’s head on his lap. Arthur was purring fully, his arms curled around John’s thigh and squishing his cheek further against him. John held his hand to Arthur’s head, combed through his hair with a soft purr of his own.

“Did I ever show you what I found in my history book this semester?” Arthur asked, breaking the silence.

John grinned down at Arthur, shook his head. “No, you haven’t.”

Arthur slowly sat up on his elbow, stretching across John’s lap to grab his phone. John sniffed tentatively at his nose blockages, affirming they were still there while Arthur shifted in his lap.

Arthur returned to his spot on John’s thigh, clicking his phone on with a picture of him and John dressed as Thor and Loki from Halloween. He swiped on his lock screen, went to his photo gallery and scrolled through his pictures before finding what he was looking for.

“Under the ‘Turn of the New Century’ chapter, this was under the first mention of ‘Mate courtship and marriage’. Look at these guys, I thought the black haired one looked like you.”

Arthur raised his phone for John to look at the picture, one from Arthur’s textbook. His finger was holding the crease open of the paperback, pointing in the direction of a rectangular picture of two men. They were sat down before a camp, the dark haired one sitting on the ground while the bulkier of the two sat on a crate.

The dark haired one was leaned in, an arm draped over the other’s thigh, his free hand holding at the waist of his stomach. John could barely hold the grin on his lips when he finally noticed that the one on the ground was a pregnant omega, his cheek decorated with a well-healed scar of an animal attack.

“This dude, the pregnant one, looks like me?” John asked, his fingers combing through Arthur’s hair again.

His eyes darted from the omega to his mate, the well-built man next to him. His hat was tipped back, the sunlight shining on his face while his jaw was jut out to showcase his lengthy beard.

“Aside from the fact he’s pregnant and you clean up a little better than he does. Don’t you see it in the face?” Arthur asked, retracting the phone and looking at the picture with another scrutinized stare. “Like, you could be the reincarnation of him.”

John scoffed at that. “Oh no, is the crazy coming out now? I knew there was something wrong with you.”

John bent and kissed Arthur’s forehead when he was met with a swat in the ribs. “You look like him,” he added, pointing to the burly man beside the omega. “Except you can’t grow a beard for shit.”

Arthur tilted in the direction of John’s suspended lips. “I could if I wanted to. Don’t wanna scare the big hairless alpha away, though.”

John hummed, pulled away. “Grow it out if you want. There’s no scaring me away now.”

Except if it was, by chance, the on-the-clock refreshing of slick in the air. John knew the tell-tale signs of it, the sudden squeeze Arthur would have of his leg and the fidget of his thighs together as he shifted on a hip.

The scent was heady and thickening in the room, making the temperature a few degrees hotter than the rest of the cabin. John noticed the glistening of slick between Arthur’s tightly pressed thighs and ignored it as best as he could, inhaling through his nose more of Arthur’s cologne.

“I’ll do it, don’t tempt me. It’ll keep my face warm,” Arthur said, dropping his phone on the other side of John’s lap before curling tighter at his boyfriend’s thigh.

“Whatever you want. I think it’ll look good on you,” John said, his hand trailing down the back of Arthur’s neck before tracing his jaw.

He sat upright, leaned back even, and got comfortable as Arthur began to writhe with his toes wiggling, more slick producing. John reached for one of his sweatshirts he’d scented recently, and Arthur had stashed under his pillow, then handed it over to his boyfriend who was now clenching his nails into John’s thigh.

It was now beginning to become a dreadful position to be in, practically trapped by Arthur’s hold-turned-vice-grip with his nose edging dangerously up John’s inner thigh.

“Arthur,” John said, folding over again and planting his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck and shoulder. “Come on, scent me.”

Arthur growled, his teeth now finding the seam of John’s boxer leg and hiking it up with a long lick to follow. John groaned, his hand now finding its way to Arthur’s shoulder and pushing him away.

John tried at his own version of scenting, dragging his nose along Arthur’s shoulder and scent gland before scrubbing his forehead to the oil secreted. “Scent me, Arthur.”

Arthur ignored him, instead offering to kiss John’s kneecap as he was held at a forearm’s distance. John relaxed his hold, letting Arthur back to his spot on his lap. He hiked a knee up, rolled Arthur onto his back then climbed onto his lap.

“Take this scenting like an omega,” John said sternly, a smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth.

Arthur stared up at John, took in the sight of his mate holding steady in the afternoon glow. His hair was drawn back, like Arthur mentioned to liking before, with his shoulders flexed forward as he held at Arthur’s chest.

His hands found their way up John’s tense thighs, worming his fingers further up as he angled his head to eye the newest addition to their tussle. “Are you making me, _alpha_?”

John offered his own growl in return, leaning down to curl his hand behind Arthur’s neck. “If it’s what I have to do to get you to stop eye-humping me, yes.”

Arthur tilted his head back, lengthening his throat, as his hands followed the curve of John’s backside. John ignored Arthur’s efforts and tried at his scenting again, offering his shoulder to be bitten and worked to Arthur’s content.

“No,” Arthur said with an angling of his hips. “I want you, just as you are right now.”

His lips went to John’s neck, dragged them down past his scent gland with his hands pressing John’s thighs tighter against his waist.

John was quick to pull himself off of Arthur, his feet touching the floor as he pushed off of his boyfriend’s well-toned chest. “Hey, you know the rules.”

Arthur grimaced, turning on his side and holding his head in his hand. He angled his hips down, let John witness more slick decorating his thighs. John snapped his eyes away.

“You’re hurting yourself more than me,” John said, maintaining a gulp before inhaling more of the cologne.

“You’re a shitty liar,” Arthur maintained to say, swiveling to rest on his hip once again. His free hand went for John’s sweatshirt and took a deep whiff of it before dropping it before him on the pillow and letting his hand roam down.

John watched, trying to hide the eagerness of his stare with taking in Arthur’s outstretched form, Arthur’s hand trail down his own chest and to his stomach before wiggling his fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

“Arthur,” John began with a warning, but Arthur ignored him, tugging his boxers down to free his hardened cock.

“This is how you got on before, right? Jerking off to my scented clothes?” Arthur muttered, taking hold of himself and giving a tender stroke.

His body immediately relaxed, his shoulders rolling back. John lost his breath with a gasp, shutting his eyes. “The doctor said…”

“We can’t, and no toys, I remember.” Arthur said breathily, teasing himself with another light stroke. “But he didn’t say nothing about this.”

John squinted an eye open, seeing Arthur on his back now with his boxers down to his ankles. He’d planted his feet down, starting a light bucking into his own clenched fist. The coals in John’s gut were still alive, he realized, and were only beginning at a wildfire in his chest.

He was quick to follow Arthur’s lead, not getting back on the bed for the sheer limit of impulse he could maintain. John’s hand found its way down the front of his boxers as well, taking grip of himself and almost falling to his knees.

Three days and he was already succumbing to the primal urges; John wanted to be ashamed of himself, the sweat of embarrassment beading at the back of his neck. But he didn’t turn away from Arthur’s own act, only stared on with a few soft strokes himself.

“This’ll only make things worse,” John managed to say with a low grunt to follow, the sensitivity in his hardened shaft making it unbearable to last.

“Johnny,” Arthur moaned, whined, his other hand combing back his hair with a soft arch of his back.

John leaned forward at the utter of his name, the sweet and downright needy clutch around it. He was hating this just as much as Arthur was. He gripped at the windowsill, slowing his pace while Arthur picked up, his slick starting to make a wet spot on the bed.

John growled, pausing in his stroke as Arthur’s toes cracked and his legs stretched out with a final thrust.

He angled his dick back up to his stomach, coating his skin with a few shots of cum. John ducked his head down then, shutting his eyes and replaying the same act before he seized, stumbled by way of the window and came in his hand.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, not eyeing the mess in his palm as he grabbed his boxers and pulled them back up. “You’re a bad influence.” John offered teasingly, walking over to kiss Arthur’s forehead.

Arthur hummed in response, suddenly swimming in the post-cum warmth that he was surrounded with. “I love you too.”

John hid a roll of his eyes at Arthur’s clean hand finding his waist, his thumb circling against John’s enlivened skin. “You smell so good.”

“You stay put, I’ll bring you a towel and find some fresh sheets.” John waited a moment longer then stepped out of Arthur’s light hold.

“And we can nap together,” Arthur said, stifling a nod as he nuzzled his face in John’s sweatshirt.

John smiled and nodded, leaving the room to clean himself up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post-cum warmth is the poor man's post-nut clarity.


	23. True Affection (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur continue to follow the very *strict* guidelines for Arthur's well-being. 
> 
> Arthur and John plan more of their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is so short, we're leading up to the end of winter break soon.

They slept through the rest of the day, past dinner, until Arthur’s pesky slick decided to rear itself again. It was while John was spooning Arthur, only to be woken up with the rubbing against his waist.

“Arthur,” John whispered, slowly waking himself up and holding his hand to Arthur’s hip.

Arthur groaned, a low hiss erupting from his parted lips which was enough for John to pry himself away. Arthur raised his head, eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Where’re you going?” Arthur asked, his voice groggy.

John’s brows knitted together in frustration, ducking his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck. He wanted to stay in Arthur’s orbit, just hold onto him. They would not go through what happened that afternoon again, only in the extreme cases.

“Nowhere,” John said, returning to his place behind Arthur. He kissed at Arthur’s shoulder, letting his eyes trace over the curve of it before rubbing his cheek across it.

John reached for his scent gland then traced his hand down Arthur’s spine with a shiver from his boyfriend.

“Are you hungry?” John asked directly into Arthur’s ear, his voice much lower than a whisper again.

In the blue glow of the moon peeking through the now drawn curtains, John could make out Arthur’s softened expression, his hair once again flopping over his forehead. He shook his head, shifting in bed to face John.

“I was thinking,” Arthur muttered against John’s lips when he was comfortable.

“How dangerous,” John responded, grinning as his arm draped over Arthur’s waist.

Arthur’s lips curved in a tired smile, moving himself closer to his boyfriend until their bodies were flush.

“We haven’t had a single s’more since we’ve been here.”

“You just said you weren’t hungry.” John nudged his nose against Arthur’s then reached to brush back his hair.

“Not right now. But soon, before we leave.”

“Don’t rush us,” John said then with a tender huff. “I’m liking our time out here.”

“Are you?” Arthur asked, slowly raising his head. “You look miserable.”

John shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just worried about you.”

Arthur huffed then, dropping his head back to the billow. “Don’t be. I’m fine now.”

John was silent, his hand in Arthur’s hair now massaging at his scalp. “Baby…”

“John, I told you, I’m fine.” Arthur exhaled, now turning on his back to stare at the ceiling. His hands folded over his stomach, circled his own navel and John took notice.

“Talk to me,” John said, leaning in to rest his lips to Arthur’s shoulder.

“I…never thought of kids that much,” Arthur said finally after a full minute of silence. “Only because of what I was told growing up.”

“But now knowing that I was so close, we were so close to something like that…” Arthur muttered, turning his head to look John in the eye. “I know I didn’t react that much to it before, but now that we’re here, abstaining for the sake of it, I-I dunno.”

Arthur shook his head, looking back at the ceiling. John’s eyes hovered along Arthur’s moonlit profile, his lips never leaving Arthur’s shoulder. He understood, giving a hum in agreement.

“It’s nothing bad,” Arthur added. “I’m just…thinking about it now.”

John spared an amused scoff. “Not _right_ now. But if you’re up to it, I’ll give you all the kids you want in five years.”

Arthur smiled then, air forced out of his nose. “You’re gonna make me wait five years?”

“Just a little after graduation. I am not ruining your college career.” John muttered against Arthur’s hot skin.

“You’re holding me to that?” Arthur joked.

John bared his teeth, gave Arthur’s shoulder a tender nibble. “Of course.”

Arthur turned to John again, rested their foreheads together with a shared exhale. John’s eyes fluttered, his hand in Arthur’s hair trailing down his neck before resting on his chest.

“I love you,” John said, his eyes locking onto Arthur’s even in the darkness. When he said the words, though he meant them before and knew it was too soon, John felt a tether rush through him like a harpoon and directly into Arthur’s shoulder.

He gulped then, pulling his hand back only for Arthur to take hold of it and hold it against his pectoral. John’s breath caught in his throat, catching himself off-guard. The tip of Arthur’s nose smudged against his, feeling Arthur’s lake eyes, though dilated, pierce through him.

“I love you, John Marston.” Arthur said lowly, but the words buzzed directly into John’s ear.

John’s stomach lurched up to his throat, mixing with the contained breath for a delightfully queasy concoction. He felt the harpoon shoot again, this time staking him directly in the chest. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt, even with everything that John chalked up and blamed on himself.

He felt nothing but a direct future with Arthur, with time feeling like nothing between them.

“We must be True Mates,” John tried at a joke.

“Soulmates, I’m telling you.” Arthur smiled, turning to John fully and ducking his head to his collarbone with a low yawn.

John shifted closer to Arthur, ducking his head to rest his nose against his boyfriend’s chocolate tresses. He attempted to smell Arthur’s hair but remembered the plugs in his nose then snorted them out.

John inhaled deeply at Arthur’s scent, muscling through the cloying scent of slick that assaulted his senses. He willed himself to sleep following Arthur’s deep breathing, once again reminding him of the ocean waves pulling in and drifting out.

He could imagine the beach, the vast horizons, and the sun beating down on the warm sand. And there Arthur was, silent and staring forward as well, a smile on his lips while his hand held onto John’s.

It was peaceful.

The first week, much to John and Arthur’s collective dismay, was nothing compared to the second. By the first week’s end on Sunday, Arthur was working his way to standing and functioning around the cabin.

It wasn’t until later that same night that Arthur was staggering to stand, his skin pinched pink and his breath hitching in gulps. After dinner, he’d reached for the coffee table to stand and instead crumbled to the floor.

“Arthur!” John exclaimed from the kitchen sink, dropping the dishes into the water before barreling around the kitchen island to catch Arthur on his way down. “You’re burning up. Let’s get you to the shower.”

Arthur was reduced to grunts and huffs, shaking his head as he curled into John’s lap and hid his face in his boyfriend’s shirt. John didn’t have to inhale, already knowing the scent and its intensity by how it was gushing down the back of Arthur’s legs. He clenched his teeth, let Arthur curl into him for comfort.

John draped his arm over Arthur, combing his fingers through his dark hair until Arthur started clutching at his shirt. He strained by bending, rubbing his scent gland and face against Arthur’s shoulder and up his jaw before pressing his lips to Arthur’s forehead.

Arthur shifted with a groan, with John feeling Arthur straighten up in his hold. John felt Arthur’s slickened legs along his knees before a wet spot was sat directly on John’s lap. John didn’t even think about it, his arms moving to curl around Arthur’s waist.

His eyes now focused on Arthur’s collarbone while he thought of what they were doing. John hid a grimace, shutting his eyes as he went still.

“Babe, we—” John began only to be shut up with Arthur’s mouth on his. His tongue snaked its way between John’s lips, drawing his own tongue out to be suckled on.

He dropped his hands from Arthur, tightening them into fists at his sides. John withheld a groan, keeping his breath steady while he tasted the salty aftertaste of soy sauce from their dinner. Arthur’s knees were clenched tightly at John, his hips shifting along the hardening relief that was choked between John’s thighs.

“Arthur,” John garbled softly, Arthur’s mouth taking full reign and his tongue seducing itself in John’s mouth. He leaned back slightly, his own breath hitching as the scent of slick finally wormed itself into John’s nostrils.

It took hold with a steady trickle of the cloying scent-turned-taste over the coals that were now livening to flames. They lapped at John’s belly, reminding him of what he was so trying so hard to abstain from. The memory of Arthur’s picked-up breathing, the absolute bodily squeeze he put around John every time he slid in.

John wanted to be held like that again, tighter though. He wanted to be crushed in Arthur’s arms and held together at the same time. He was feeling it now, the slick seeping through Arthur’s boxers and his own. The drag of Arthur’s flexing rim, it greedily pursing with each tip-teasing pause.

John groaned, his hands now finding their way to Arthur’s waist. The fighting was becoming too much, the feeling of stomaching instincts was pummeling the bottom of his throat. The itch of wanting to taste Arthur’s slick was returning and John held the thought of bending his boyfriend down, making him present and drinking directly from the source.

That alone made his dick spring free from his vice-gripped thighs. He wanted to hide his unwarranted attraction but his body was now stating otherwise.

Arthur pulled away barely, his mouth just against John’s with a mewling plea. “Fuck me?”

His breaths were uneven, panting while the sweat drenched his hairline; Arthur’s hand went for John’s waistband, tugging it down before using his knees to wiggle the cloth down John’s thighs.

“Fuck me,” he urged lowly, rearing up on his knees with John’s face resting against his chest.

The fueling fire in John was now making him sweat, Arthur’s words only making him hotter and squirmy. He wanted to hear more of that voice, the pitiful mewling and begging that only John could bring out of Arthur. His hands squeezed gently at Arthur’s hips, reveling in the softness of his boyfriend’s skin.

John ignored his dick standing at attention, it waiting eagerly just along Arthur’s flexed thighs. “No, no, we can’t.” He tried, was ready to repeat it but the scent of Arthur’s slick refreshed in the air.

Arthur reached behind him, pulling his damp boxers down enough before guiding John’s dick up between his slickened cheeks. John gulped, lost his breath as his hands clenched tighter at Arthur’s hips.

“Arthur, no,” John said, the heat in him starting to lap up his throat and make him weaker. “You’ll get hurt.”

“Johnny please,” Arthur pleaded, his lips now atop John’s head and his hand stroking along John’s other head.

John rolled his eyes, openly breathing in Arthur’s siren song of a scent. “We…I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t, I know you won’t,” Arthur said mindlessly as he angled John’s tip towards his hole and eased down on it.

The two both strained: Arthur with taking in John’s hot head and John refraining from thrusting in deep. John didn’t even think about protection until his tip popped just past Arthur’s tight rim and was met with a clench.

John struggled then, trying to map out the feeling as Arthur buckled against him, knees trembling as he came down for their thighs to meet. John’s mouth fell open with a gasp of relief as Arthur’s strong arms curled around his shoulders with a whimper to follow.

“I-I got you,” John whispered against Arthur’s ear, disguising the pant in his voice.

They didn’t move, only sat connected while John did his best to not get caught in it. He was going to pull back out, in a second, as soon as Arthur’s shoulders and knees stopped shaking.

“John,” Arthur mewled then, his lips finding John’s in an instant. “Keep going.”

John shook his head, dropping his hand from Arthur’s hip to grab at himself and pull out. “N-no baby. We’ve already gone too far.”

Arthur cried out at John leaving him, his face scrunching in a mixture of frustration and pleasure. John shut his eyes again, squeezed them, as he held himself and silently reveled at the drip of Arthur’s slick on his dick.

Arthur’s cock was no better, fighting against the fabric at the front of his boxers. John reached for it, freed it from its prison before seething inwardly at it flexing against his.

He rolled his eyes, his brows furrowing as he grabbed both in his hand and tried a stroke. Arthur twitched in his hold, his mouth dragging over John’s cheek.

John raised his head, their foreheads pressing together, and he smirked. “You remember this, you liked this.”

Arthur nodded, his breath battering against John’s lips. “Don’t stop, okay?”

John obliged, doing his best to keep a cool front though his body was wracking with a sense of anguish and disappointment. The one thing they were told not to do and they did it anyways.

John wasn’t sure if it’d done anything too serious, but by a phantom mapping of a few seconds, it was tighter than before. And by Arthur’s quick reaction, it was sensitive too.

John cursed at himself inside, stroking Arthur to completion while he was left unsatisfied and frankly, upset with himself. Arthur cooed, curled into John with another heavy kiss to follow, the slick only livening another time.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said finally as Arthur rested his head to John’s shoulder, milked at his marked scent gland.

John didn’t sleep that night, watching Arthur sleep beside him. He beat himself up inside, couldn’t help but make every part of him his own punching bag. He hovered over Arthur while he snored on his stomach, lifting the thin sheet to examine the surgery scar on his back.

It was an inch at the small of his back, still red-ringed around the newly pink pucker. It still looked raw, and John wondered if he could clean it in the morning. He looked back at Arthur, still sleeping as comfortably as possible, his nose pressed firmly in a bundle of John’s nightshirts.

John gulped, knowing that Arthur hadn’t mentioned any pain but it still worried him. He was careless, having let his alpha nature take hold and be whipped into making his omega feel better.

That was what he was supposed to be doing, not making it worse. John dropped the bedsheet then lined his thumbnail between his teeth. He rested on his side, stared down at Arthur’s softened face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” John whispered, tucking a few stray strands behind Arthur’s ear.

He wouldn’t be okay the rest of the night, worried that a single movement would crack Arthur like a priceless, fragile artifact.

The next morning, John was stiff. He still was from the night before, but now his entire body was rigid under Arthur.

Arthur had moved from the pile of clothes that smelled like John to the direct source, resting his head just in the crook of John’s neck and draping his leg over John’s waist.

John was stagnant, waking up and staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t thought about anything else except for if he was starting to smell blood. Every ten minutes, John checked at the bedsheets for any indication that he’d, in fact, gone too far.

Instead, there was none. Only the refresh of slick on the hour like clockwork. John groaned, folding his hand to his forehead. He massaged at his tense brow, knowing that he was now getting more paranoid than Dr. Gray had previously stressed him to be.

“Johnny,” Arthur began, his voice a beautiful morning grog. “Relax. Your body feels like a rock.” His lips trailed against John’s throat, then down to his collarbone with a kiss.

John hummed atonally in response. “We did the one thing we weren’t ‘sposed to.”

Arthur’s lips curved against John’s skin and John felt it, rolling his eyes at the casual nature of his boyfriend. “I’m fine. Nothing bad happened.”

“Yeah, this time.” John responded.

“Honey.” Arthur sat up on his elbow and stared down at John. “It’s going to be okay. You said it yourself, just a little more healing.”

John exhaled deeply, knowing that he was overreacting. “We almost didn’t stop.”

“But we did,” Arthur said, returning to his spot on John with his lips curling around John’s earlobe. “No harm, no foul.”

John gave a short shake of his head. “I could’ve seriously hurt you.”

Arthur huffed then. “I’m resilient.”

“How do you even feel?” John asked, dropping his hand from his brow and angling his head to look over Arthur’s body stretched over him.

“The same amount of sore,” Arthur added. “John, I told you, I’m okay. I’m pliant like playdoh.”

John scoffed even as Arthur took hold of his hand and guided it down the back of his shorts. “Feel, there’s no hurting me right now. It’s better than if you went in afterwards.”

John refrained from touching at Arthur’s hole, as eager and pliant as it was, already knowing from the amount of slick. “I really shouldn’t. And I’m not doing that.”

Arthur arched his back, his hand slipping over John’s to touch at himself. John grabbed onto Arthur’s wrist and pulled both of their hands free. He turned to look down at his boyfriend with narrowed eyes.

“Am I gonna have to put mittens on you? No fingers, no me, Arthur,” John said sternly.

Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes. “But you know it felt so good last night.”

“That doesn’t matter. We can’t keep getting close like that, you could end up seriously hurt.” John sat up and stared down at Arthur. “For the next week, we scent, we nest but we can’t tempt ourselves.”

Arthur sat up after John, resting his chin on John’s shoulder. He hid a slight pout, just out of John’s eyesight. “Alright, fine. But can we still—”

“No grinding,” John stated suddenly.

“What about—”

“ _No_ jerking each other off either.”

Arthur’s body lurched against John’s, their chest bumping together awkwardly. “This fucking sucks.”

John offered a dry chuckle in response. “And wait ‘til after your heat, when you really love me.”

Arthur spared an amused scoff in return. “I hate you.”

By the tenth day of Arthur’s extended heat, the cabin was finally back into some semblance of when they arrived. The bedsheets for every room were washed thoroughly and replaced. The bathroom was once again spotless and the cabinets of the kitchen were close to empty except for the powdered sugar, two packages of oatmeal and an open bottle of syrup.

Arthur was still asleep, or trying to stay asleep, while John was rudely awoken by his phone ringing.

It was his mother and, with as much that he’d tried to avoid telling her too much, she was still asking questions. He climbed out of bed, trying his best to not disturb his boyfriend, then tiptoed out of the room.

“Mom, I told you that we were leaving today. I’d let you know if we got on the road. Arthur’s still sleeping.” John said quickly, shutting the door behind him.

“I was just worried that you’d forgot. How’s Arthur? Is he okay? Have you fed him this morning?” Bess was quick with her questioning.

John forced the heel of his palm to his forehead and began to pace down the hallway. “He’s fine, I told you I’ve been minding myself. I’m not an animal. He’s still sleeping but I’m planning on making him some breakfast.”

“Did you—”

“Yes, I packed extra blankets. I made sure it was alright with Mrs. Van Der Linde, too.” John answered almost too quickly. He’d spent the entire night before packing up the car and lining the passenger and backseat with towels to not damage the leather.

John had also mapped out where to stop for meals and was already reminding himself to plug his nostrils. He was taking extra precautions, yes, but it was only because Arthur was worth it.

John was willing to admit that he was a bit of a hoverer when it came to Arthur, now realizing how much he was crippling to Arthur’s mind on healing. He chalked it up to the heat, but he knew that it was still Arthur at his core.

“What time are you leaving?” Bess asked.

“When Arthur wakes up.” John offered.

“I made up Dad’s office for you two when you show up, I even put down the doorway stopper to keep his scent in the room when you get here.” Bess said.

John exhaled deeply, nodding in a slight relief. “Thanks, mom. What about Sean and Lenny?”

Bess scoffed in disbelief. “I got them some nose plugs, your father too. They will not be bothering that boy until it’s all over.”

John’s shoulders relaxed then, the relief washing down his back. He’d have to take it, otherwise he already felt his nature billowing with ferocious smoke inside of him.

“I appreciate that,” John said, strained between his teeth. He knew that it wouldn’t happen, but inside he was readying himself for defending Arthur at all costs.

“Oh, that reminds me. You better call Abi, she’s been waiting for you to show up for that damned truck. Did you tell her you’d take that hunk of junk?”

John smiled then. “Yes, I did. I’ll call her when we leave. Her dad said he’d help me fix a part.”

“Well, if that’s what you want. I’ll let you get to packing and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, mom.”

“I love you, sweet pea.”

John ended the phone call then slinked back into the bedroom to return to bed. Arthur rolled over, draping his arm over John’s chest as he rested on his stomach.

“You wanna leave today?” John asked with a tender smile on his lips, leaning in to rest them against Arthur’s forehead.

“Do we have to?” Arthur responded with a whisper.

By the time that they got on the road, the snow began to fall again. It made their six-hour drive more of an eight-hour trek. John didn’t mind it if Arthur didn’t, and he slept most of the way.

When they got to John’s house, he carried Arthur inside and put him to bed then grabbed a glass of water for him before finally going to bed.


	24. Chateau Lobby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and John spend the rest of their winter break in better spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost through this part of winter break, I swearrrr. 
> 
> LIke, two more weeks. They get to go back to Arthur's parents for New Years and then they're back at New Haven. 
> 
> It feels like, much like their semester, this story's been going so fast. 
> 
> BUT WE'RE NOT FINISHED YET. WE'VE GOT ANOTHER CONTENDER IN THE MIDST. BEWARE AND KEEP A LOOK OUT FOR UPDATED TAGS, HUH? 
> 
> And then if it gets good enough, we might see the actual end of this story yet. 
> 
> sorry, didn't mean to do all that. FLUFF BOYS WILL FLUFF.

John knew exactly what to get Arthur for Christmas. For the longest time, even before they started dating, John was ready to get Arthur another sketch journal. Now the gift list only grew, with a whole sketch pencil kit and a leather bound wrap for them. The latest thing he'd added to his mental list was, and it made him nervous to get it, a silver-plated ring. 

It wasn't meant to be a lot, John knew that but he didn't want Arthur to think that way. Of course they thought about the future, they actively talked about it and Arthur marked him. But the ring, it was the sign that everyone would get. 

"I think you should get it," Abigail said after John asked for her advice. 

He'd showed her the picture of it on his phone, he'd been thinking about it for a few nights before he went to sleep next to Arthur. 

"You don't think it's too serious?" John asked, clicking his phone off and leaning against the hood of the Rust. 

Abigail scoffed. "Of course not, John. You and Arthur are obviously going the distance."

John forced his eyes shut with a slight cringe. "Please tell me I'm not hurting your feelings about this."

Abi shook her head, moving around the front of the truck to lean into the driver's window at her dad. "You could never. You got this thing fixed, old man?"

Abigail’s father hacked up a loogie and nodded for Abi to move out of the way; he spat it out at his wooden fence as his foot pressed down on the brake pedal and turned the car on.

The engine turned over with a seamless purr, the entire rusty body of the pickup truck rattling on its tires.

“Look at that, brand new,” Mr. Roberts said, climbing out of the running truck and holding his hand out for a high-five to his daughter.

Abi rolled her eyes, arms crossing as a fog of her breath expelled from her lips. “Can we go now?”

“Just one more thing.” Mr. Roberts held a finger up and went to the truck bed to grab his toolbox. “John Matthews, you got yourself a vehicle. I’d say you get it for about two years, you’ll have to bring it back if it ever breaks down.”

John straightened up from the vehicle, nodding to what Mr. Roberts was saying. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re saving me from putting this old thing down.”

Abigail pushed past her father and John, throwing open the passenger door and climbing in. “Okay, bye dad. Come on, John. Let’s go shopping while you’re still thinking about it.”

John followed suit, rounding the front of the truck and climbing in before rolling up the window. “So you think he’ll like it?”

“I know he’ll love it,” Abi said, buckling her seatbelt as her father opened the back gate of the fence to the gravel alleyway.

John tapped his fingers to the steering wheel. “Do you think I should wait until his birthday?”

Abigail scoffed, shook her head. “John, you could wait until the end of time and you’d still think it was wrong. Your sappy love is on its way to killing me.”

John smirked and geared the truck into drive, reaching for the heat. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

He drove the truck out of Abigail’s backyard then down the alleyway before turning onto the street. They drove with the radio stuck between two stations, rustling and static while the road was heard under the tires.

“You never told me what happened to Arthur in the hospital,” Abigail began when John stopped at a red light.

John raised his brows, pulling his hat back to his hairline before looking over at Abi. She was already looking at him, her arms tighter before her with one of her legs tucked under her.

He cleared his throat, drummed his thumb over the truck logo in the middle of the wheel. “Don’t tell Mom, okay?”

“Swear.” Abigail said, dropping her arms from her chest.

“He…got an infection.” John started, unsure where to begin the lengthy explanation. “I don’t remember if we ever talked about him being a recessive, but it’s not real.”

Abigail’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, turning fully to face John. Her back was pressed to the door as she planted her foot up. “What do you mean?”

John blinked slowly, noting the light turning green in his peripheral. He turned back to the road and told Abi about ROPS, what it meant with Arthur’s parents and what he was subjected to. Then he told her about the pregnancy.

Abi’s face went pale then; the snow from outside of the window shined a white glow into the bright cabin already, which left Abi to look like an apparition. John tried to not react like he had when he first heard the news, knowing that it wasn’t that serious.

“It would’ve never made it. It was going to rupture his fallopian tube and if it did that, he might as well have kept the IUD in.” John stated blandly, knowing that it was more serious than he was letting on.

“He was pregnant,” Abi repeated after a second more of silence.

John nodded, glanced over to his ex-girlfriend to measure her reaction. They’d never talked about kids, they’d never even thought about it. ALA couples had harder times conceiving with the lack of hormones, but there was nothing impossible.

“You were about to have a rugrat your first semester out of college,” Abigail said, shaking her head until her foot jutted across the bucket seat to kick John in the hip. “You absolute dumbass.”

John couldn’t help but laugh in reflex. “I know, I’m stupid.”

“And you did it the first time y’all had sex? You have the worst luck, Marston.”

“I know,” John said, enunciated every syllable. The cabin went quiet again.

“How’d Arthur react to that?”

John gripped at the steering wheel. “He was more concerned about his father betraying his trust. But he’s been thinking more about kids now that he can.”

Abi nodded solemnly. “I’d never thought about it so much, but for him to be able to and _not_ be able to have them must’ve been rough.”

“Abi, I was a class-A jerk on our way up to the fucking cabin. The condom broke…”

“The same one that triggered the infection,” Abi interjected.

John nodded. “And I came inside him. I felt like I was pressuring him to do something he didn’t want to, even when he suggested it to make me feel better. And when he told me that the possibility of him having kids were slim, no matter how hard we tried, I felt like a total asshole.”

Abi made a dry noise, shaking her head. “John, I’m sure he knew you were thinking in his best interest. He hasn’t brought that up again, has he?”

“No, because he said that that happening was nothing short of a good thing.”

Abi folded her lips together, turned over her shoulder to look out of the window. “He’s not wrong. If that hadn’t have happened, John, he could’ve lost everything.”

John felt himself go blank, hearing Abi say that. He propped his elbow on his door then rested his chin in his hand.

“Doctor told him six weeks out of commission. I think we’ve pushed it to eight now,” John said, changing the subject to the most recent thing weighing his mind.

“You just keep making things worse and worse for him. What does he see in you?” Abi joked, her grin beaming.

John wryly scoffed in return. “I don’t know, but I love him.” He glanced over to Abi again, seeing that her smile didn’t falter. “Wanna hear what happened?”

Abi rolled her eyes. “What’d you do?”

John divulged, mildly, into that recent exploit and how he was completely fine up until Arthur started grinding on him.

“Dr. Gray said that the second week was going to be heightened with the hormones, but Abi,” John dropped his shoulders and bit back a groan as he thought of Arthur on him that night. “He was gonna drive me into rut.”

“Hot,” Abi said, pulling her thumb to her mouth to chew off her nail. “And you guys fucked?”

John’s hand fanned over his face in sudden disappointment. “No, uh, I put it in and then I had to pull out.”

Abi’s foot jutted out again to kick John’s hip, a bit harder than earlier. “You didn’t even go all the way? You risked it for a ding-dong ditch? You’re a goddamn moron!”

“I know, I know!” John exclaimed, moving his body out of Abigail’s reach.

At that, Abigail started to laugh and John eventually joined in at his own expense. When Abi sighed afterwards, she pursed her lips in thought.

“Was he okay after that?”

John nodded. “Yeah, believe me, I lost sleep over him that night. I was so nervous I popped a stitch in him or something.”

Abigail offered a nod in response. “Like you’d ever hurt him like that.”

The mere thought of Arthur getting hurt by John’s doing made the twang return in his chest. It was a sudden stab, directly through his heart, met with the squeezing of his innards.

“I’d rather die,” John replied, turning into the parking lot for the shopping center.

They parked the truck near a streetlight and John shut off the car. He exhaled deeply, putting his keys in his pockets before turning to Abi. “You ready?”

John hid Arthur’s gifts under the bucket seat then locked the truck afterwards. He rounded the front of the truck, sidling between it and Dutch’s SUV on the curb. When he walked inside, Old Boy was yipping at his brothers and crossing before his father’s closed office door.

“Dumbasses,” John said with a growl, his teeth baring at Lenny and Sean standing an arms distance from the door.

Old Boy’s tail whipped in excitement at John’s return, never leaving his post before the door.

“Where’s your damn nose plugs?” John asked, slamming the front door after him and moving towards the office.

“Just wanted a whiff. No harm,” Sean said, raising his hands and sucking the drool back from his mouth.

John bundled a fist but stuffed it into his jacket pocket before sniffling at the air. Even with his mother’s preventative measures, Arthur’s scent was beginning to seep into the foyer. He shoved his brothers further away then bared his teeth more before reaching for the doorknob.

“Good boy, stay,” John said to Old Boy, pointing at his pet before slipping into the room and shutting the door after him.

He locked the door immediately, inhaling Arthur’s saturated scent as he held onto a pillow cloaked in John’s sweater.

“Hey babe, have you eaten?” John asked, looking at his father’s desk with a tray of snack foods and a glass of water. He smirked; his mother was a godsend.

Arthur rolled his eyes and squished his cheek further into the pillow; his hand reached out to hook onto John’s belt loop and pulled him in for a kiss.

“No,” he said after.

John scoffed, sat down on the edge of the bed with a deep exhale. He was getting used to it, it was easier to breathe through it than ignore it. When his mother found out about John’s defensive measures, she laughed at him.

“Honey, it’s natural. If you weren’t attracted to him, it wouldn’t have such a hold on you,” she offered and John instantly wished he could combust.

“Plugging your nose with his cologne is smart, but honey throat-lining is a myth.”

John brushed back Arthur’s hair then quirked a brow at the shirt he was wearing. A fully knit gray sweater with baggy sleeves and a blue stripe across the chest.

“Mom couldn’t wait, could she?” John asked, pinching at the wrist of Arthur’s sleeve.

Arthur grinned. “She came and sat with me a bit.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I like her way more than your brothers.”

John grinned in disbelief. “As you should. Bess is a damn angel.”

Arthur nodded, folded his lips together before taking nibble of his bottom lip. “I told her about the ectopic…thing.”

John dropped his hand to Arthur’s knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. He ran his thumb over the fold of his calve pressed to his thigh, reveled in the simple warmth there and tried to not get caught in the shiver that Arthur gave after.

“How’d she take it?” John asked. He never thought of how best to tell his parents, whether they’d be as upset with the pregnancy itself or the fact that John was careless.

“As well as she could. She wasn’t mad or anything, just a bit quiet about it.”

John nodded, looking at the food tray then back when Arthur perked up again. He leaned further forward, rested his chin to John’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, John.”

John looked down at Arthur then rested his cheek to his boyfriend’s temple. “I know, I should be telling you that. How’re you feeling?”

“Hot,” Arthur said, moving his body closer to John’s. “You feel like an ice bath, smell so good. Why can’t I have you?”

“Because you’re being good?” John tried.

Arthur growled in response, tucking his face to John’s neck. His lips trailed along John’s skin, kissed every inch open for the touch. “Screw being good, John.”

John clenched his hand on Arthur’s knee as Arthur’s tongue found its way into John’s ear. It rolled, bringing a full-body shiver out of John. The wet schluck of it with the warm pressure was reminding John of how good Arthur felt every time.

“Arthur,” John warned softly, the willpower dissipating the more that Arthur moved closer. “You know the rules.”

“Necking wasn’t in the rules, if I remember correctly,” Arthur said, shifting the pillow out of his hold and moving closer to John. His hands pressed to the bed on either side of John’s waist.

John leaned slightly, turning his head to be wooed further into Arthur. Arthur hitched his leg over John’s thighs, ground his way up to sit on John’s waist.

“You’re not getting me again,” John said, grabbing onto Arthur’s thighs and shifting him onto the bed.

“Damn you, just hold me.” Arthur’s arms curled around John’s shoulders, pulling him close and holding him flush to his chest.

John didn’t fight then with Arthur squishing him close in his thick arms. His thighs curled around John’s waist, effectively trapping him in a death snuggle. John wiggled his arms free from and wrapped them around Arthur’s middle, nuzzling his cheek into his boyfriend’s warm pectorals.

“Sean and Lenny have been outside your room,” John whispered after a few minutes.

“I know, they’ve been trying to get me to come out. Bess told me to ignore them,” Arthur said, squeezing John’s shoulders a bit tighter as he ducked his head into his dark hair.

“And you should. If they keep bothering you, I’m putting them on their necks,” John retorted, a low growl emitting from his chest.

Arthur rolled his shoulders with a disdained groan to follow. “Don’t do that.”

John raised his head, peeked to see his boyfriend’s flustered face. “Duly noted.” He exhaled deeply into Arthur’s sweater, his breath seeping through the holes of the knit and making Arthur shiver.

“Stop being sexy for, like, two hours?” Arthur asked into John’s hair.

“I’ll try,” John smiled into Arthur’s sweater, inhaling more of his beautifully thick scent.

“How was hanging with Abs?” Arthur asked, nudging his nose to flip a few locks of John’s hair.

John hummed in response, his smile only growing. He was eager to let Arthur in on his gifts but the surprise was everything. “It was good. You’ll get to see the truck, it’s gonna be perfect for drive-ins.”

Arthur’s lips curved against John’s head in a grin. John couldn’t help but squeeze at Arthur a bit tighter until Arthur hid a hiss. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, John. It’s just a little tender. Squeeze away,” Arthur muttered into John’s hair. “I could just squish you.”

“Do it, please,” John said, infatuated in their cuddle session. “I could die happy right now.”

“You’re so whipped,” Arthur said with a chuckle.

“Have you been talking to Abi?” John asked, raising his head again to look at Arthur.

Arthur nudged John’s head back down with his chin and shushed him. “Just hold me.”

“Gladly.” John rubbed his cheek to Arthur’s chest, bathing himself in his boyfriend’s scent.

Bess had to hand it to her son. John was expertly handling Arthur’s heat situation. While it looked painful for him to refrain from acting on his urges, John was still a functioning young man at the end of it.

She told him that eating dinner with the family wasn’t necessary but he insisted. He hoped it would give him a clear head that wasn’t wallowing and fundamentally breaking down in Arthur’s absolutely maddening heat.

John was only driving himself insane by waiting in front of Arthur, like time would jump ahead and he could do everything that he was now realizing was off-limits during the healing process. Arthur was naturally attractive, wholly sexy and in every way beautiful.

For John to only sit and revel in Arthur was one thing, but for them to come together and revel in one another was something that John was trying to forget about. But it was only the two weeks that John was most worried about, when Arthur was his most insatiable and John’s alpha nature his most willing.

He’d never thought of his mind so riddled with dirty thoughts until he was in Arthur’s primal presence. Even as he poked at the mashed potatoes on his plate, John was only thinking about how much he’d rather be eating between Arthur’s thick thighs than stomaching salmon.

“How was your semester, John? You got pretty busy towards the end, hmm?” His father asked, pointing his forkful of Brussel sprout at John across the table.

John cleared his throat, jerked his honed stare at his father’s office door back to his father. He’d left Arthur to sleep, if only for an hour, because once that hour was up it’d be a fresh trickle of slick. “Uh, it was good.”

He dropped his head down to his plate, raked his fork over the mountain of mashed potatoes. John knew that Arthur would’ve enjoyed this meal, savored every bite after the months of diner food they’d funneled into their bodies. It was no offense to Karen, but damn it home mashed potatoes were better than house fries.

Still, John was staring at the glaze on the salmon, golden-crisp and dripping down the sides. His mouth watered, but in the worst way.

“Bet it was,” Sean said, stabbing at his piece of salmon. “And I bet Arthur made it all the better.”

John flicked his eyes up from his plate, staring from under his brow at his younger brother. He muscled down a threat, his throat slowly closing with heat gnawing at his belly. “You know what, Sean? He did.”

Sean hid a gulp, forcing a bite of pink fish into his mouth then dropped his eyes down to his plate. Bess reached over, giving John’s hand a pat.

John straightened his shoulders and brought a bite of mashed potatoes to his mouth, letting the food fall apart in globs from the amount of drool just behind his teeth. He smiled at his mother, gave his best conversational topics back to his father and brothers and when they were finally done with dinner, Arthur’s heat was the farthest thing from John’s mind.

That was until dessert, which Bess was adamant for John to share with Arthur. It was hot chocolate and fresh white-macadamia cookies, served on the same tray Bess had left in the office three days before.

“Mom, you didn’t have to,” John began as the tray was thrust into his hold.

Bess gave John a deeply sympathetic look, her hand going to cup his cheek. “I know that you’re being good, and though you won’t say it, you’re struggling to do so. What’s good for Arthur is great for both of you, just spend some time with him.”

John felt a pinch in his gut, reminding him of the most effective form of abstinence: parental shame. He forced a tight smile on his lips, his brows curving in an emotional indigestion he couldn’t stop.

If his mother saw what was happening in John’s head, he’d be sent to the priesthood. And his mother wasn’t even religious.

“Thanks mom,” he said dryly, ready to turn on his heels and make a beeline for the room.

“Also, I’m sure that if its outside of clothes—”

John’s eyes widened as he backed away from his mother. “Okay mom, bye!”

He bolted out of his mother’s immediate reach then into the office that Old Boy continuously guarded. Inside, he locked the door with the tray propped on his hip then set it on the desk.

“Johnny,” Arthur began, a tired grog in his voice as he rolled onto his side.

“Hey bud,” John tried, his voice cracking for the first time in five years since he hit puberty. “How’d you sleep?”

Arthur grumbled, pushing himself up by his arm and letting the comforter cascade down his body. “Just as well as you can be.”

John nodded, a bit too eagerly. “Cool, cool. Well, you missed dinner. It’s okay though, Mom—uh—set a plate for you in the microwave. But she also gave you some dessert.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “Are you okay? You’re talking a bit fast.”

John hadn’t noticed and he also hadn’t noticed that an embarrassed sweat was creeping up his neck. All he was fixating on was the various tchotchkes of his father’s that were suddenly very interesting to him. When did his father meet the mayor of Blackwater?

“I am fine,” John forced out, glancing over to the door before sidestepping over to the bed.

He leaned in, lowered his voice. “Bess has officially freaked me out. I feel like I’m a sex fiend and I’m sorry if I’ve pressured you into doing anything just because you’re in your heat and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, bud.” Arthur’s hands were up in an instant, holding out to calm John’s jittery behavior. “You’re not doing nothing, you’re the one being unmovable like a damn rock. Take your breaths.”

John’s eyes met Arthur’s, feeling his chest rise and fall unevenly. Arthur’s lips were parted in a soft ‘o’, his hands suspended before him while he guided John to slow down.

John followed Arthur’s lead, parting his lips to breathe slowly as his hands went for his hairline to slick back his tresses. Arthur smiled when John was finally calm, his shoulders relaxing.

“You’re not a sex fiend,” Arthur said finally. “I’m the one with a dick harder than steel but you think you’re the sex fiend.” Arthur spared a huff of amusement.

John tried at a smirk, his fingers combing through his hair again.

“We’re mates and sometimes my heat, if you can’t instantly fix it, it will make you irritable. That doesn’t make you bad for your instincts, bud, but you told me yourself that we’re supposed to be following rules.”

John nodded then. Yes, they were meant to be following the rules. The same rules put into place so Arthur wouldn’t get hurt again. Why was that part so hard for John’s primal nature to understand?

He breathed in and out again, let Arthur continue. Arthur took John’s hand and pulled him to kneel on the bed. “Do you want me to tell you you’re being my rock right now? Do you know how badly I want to be all over you?”

John’s hands made their way up to cradle Arthur’s prickly jawline, the shadow of a beard slowly growing in. His thumbs rubbed under Arthur’s eyes, felt the soft skin there and snarled softly.

“Don’t mention that,” John said. He knew that he was once again being ridiculous. But another gnawing thought was worming itself to the surface.

“We’re not confusing lust for love,” Arthur said then, which did the exact opposite of gutting John. It wholesomely filled him with more gut. It made John feel full. It was as if Arthur already knew what would sate John’s worries. John only hoped he did the same for him.

“We are not our nature, John. I appreciate your attraction to me and your steel willpower to resist me.” Arthur smiled. “As soon as this is over, I know you’ll do your best to make up for the lost time. But relax. The irritation will subside, baby, I promise.”

John exhaled deeply, practically deflating with his forehead resting against Arthur’s. “I’m being a jerk again, aren’t I?”

Arthur shook his head once. “Not even in the slightest. But it’s not helping that you’re telling me all this now. I wish you’d have come to me sooner, told me something.”

John hid a roll of his eyes. “How am I supposed to tell you all that when I was the one you relied on?”

“John,” Arthur began, his hand finding John’s elbows and squeezing them tenderly. “You can’t do everything on your own, you know that. I’m not incapable of taking care of myself. You didn’t have to hold that frustration in.”

“What else was I gonna do?”

Arthur scoffed, his brow wrestling against John’s. “Jerk off, take a nap.” He spared an amused huff. “Don’t hold it in like that. God, you looked like you were just gonna explode a second ago. Your face all red and flustered.”

John’s eyelids lulled as he tempted to look Arthur in the eye. “That’s fucking selfish of me.”

“No, it’s not,” Arthur said, his hands reaching up to rub the back of John’s biceps. “You know what would’ve been selfish, and you aren’t heartless like that. You’re a good man, John Marston. And a beautiful one, too. A wildly rugged-looking, damn good smelling, sexy man.”

Arthur’s words trailed off as his hands slid down the back of John’s shoulders then down his back. John grinned in slight disbelief, rolling his shoulders before forcing himself away from Arthur.

“Just tonight and you’re out of heat,” John said as if it were a consolation prize.

Arthur’s mouth pinched as his face squeezed into a grimace. “That still won’t change the fact that I want to fuck you.”

John’s eyes slammed shut, folding his chin down to his collar with a groan. His fingers bracing Arthur’s neck twitched and he fought the urge to kiss him.

“Me too, Art,” he said finally, nudging his nose to his boyfriend’s. “But hopefully it’ll only take it to the back burner again.”

John sat on the bench outside of the glass fencing, fastening his skates on his feet. Arthur sat next to him, already tied and ready to make the terrible trek to the open rink. It was John’s suggestion of another date, finally, since the last one he brought up ended in a gravel parking lot before a food truck.

“It’s easy, babe,” John said, fastening the last loops of his laces before tucking them into the boot. “Just like roller skating.”

“I can’t roller skate neither,” Arthur said as he took John’s hand and stood up.

The two took small steps towards the open rink with Arthur’s large frame balancing daintily on the thin blades. John grabbed onto the fencing, guided Arthur to take a big step until both feet were planted firmly on the white sheet of ice.

John spared a guffaw. “Alright, it’s like dancing then.” He added.

But by the look on Arthur’s face, he didn’t know how to do that either. John nodded, stepping around his boyfriend and instantly gliding around him. He held his hands out for Arthur to take, his wobbly legs bowing the blades inward.

“Look at me, okay?” John suggested, kicking his foot out and taking a big backwards glide with Arthur trailing in his wake. “Don’t look at your feet.”

Arthur stared intensely at John’s face; his beanie pushed back to show a peek of his hairline. John smiled at Arthur, instructed that he try putting a foot in front of the other as if he were walking.

John slowed down in the glide, let Arthur try without looking down.

“You’re getting somewhere,” John said, glancing down at Arthur’s feet. “Now push off with one foot, then the other.”

Arthur’s gloved hands squeezed tightly at John’s, never letting up as he tried to maintain his balance extended through his arms and legs. John stood up straight, let Arthur follow him so his butt wasn’t jutting out awkwardly.

“See? Not so bad, right?” John asked, his fingers slowly intertwining between Arthur’s.

Arthur huffed. “It could be worse, I guess. Haven’t fallen yet.”

“Don’t jinx yourself,” John said.

They continued skating around the outer ring of the rink, letting the other patrons speed around them while they shared an intimate time. John eventually took to Arthur’s side, holding his hand while they skated next to each other.

“I think you should take up dancing next,” John joked.

“As soon as you take up swimming,” Arthur retorted with a grin.

Afterwards, they sat in John’s truck with the heat blasting while they ate lukewarm slices of pizza they’d bought from the concession stand. Their legs intertwined between each other’s; John hung his stringy slice of cheese pizza over his mouth while Arthur inhaled his in a few bites.

“Would you do it again?” John asked, folding the back of his hand over his mouth while he chewed.

“Maybe for a special occasion, our anniversary maybe?” Arthur said with a smirk.

John huffed. “You’d do that for an anniversary?”

“Did I say ‘anniversary’? I meant never. It was a cute concept, but I’m a big guy, I can’t control my body so lightly.”

John chuckled. “Big ole’ giant can’t control his body, that’s a take I never suspected.”

“Do you see these legs?” Arthur offered, patting at the inside of one of his thighs in his dark jeans.

“The massive tree trunks? I see them,” John said, not at all hiding the backpedal slurp of drool afterwards.

Arthur’s smirk only grew, hiding a roll of his eyes. “If I fell, it’d be game over for these pants.”

John’s brows knitted together, taking another bite. “Is that really the ice-skating’s fault? I think you should stop pouring yourself into clothes.”

“You love it, why stop?” Arthur added.

John sat on the snowy ground while he watched Arthur jog around the backyard with Old Boy in tow. They were taking turns giving chase to the runt fox while their mother was setting up their gift exchange.

“Old Boy, Old Boy, come here!” Arthur said, his voice chipper and babied, turning around with his arms extended to John’s pet.

Old Boy hopped up Arthur’s legs, getting caught by his extended arms. John pulled free his phone and managed to open his camera.

“Arthur, Old B, smile,” John called out to the two.

Arthur chuckled, holding Old Boy up to his face with a grin. He scratched at Old Boy’s tummy and the fox yipped in delight. John lined up the camera, sat up straighter before taking the picture.

He took a couple more as Arthur set Old Boy back down then pocketed his phone again. John pushed to his feet and gave chase after the two of them, picking up Old Boy then running after Arthur.

“Get him, Oldie, get him!” John held out the runt for Old Boy to nip at Arthur’s jacket.

“Get me yourself!” Arthur said, turning over his shoulder.

John then set Old Boy on the ground and went to tackle Arthur to the ground. Arthur chuckled and fell to the ground softly. John curled his arms and legs around Arthur, kissed at his bright pink cheeks while Arthur’s face was open while he laughed.

“Got you, loser,” John said, taking a nibble of Arthur’s ear from under his beanie.

Arthur’s arm curled behind him, wrapped around John’s waist then rolled them onto their side. “I’ll get you back for this.”

“That’s the plan, baby,” John said, growling and nuzzling his face into Arthur’s scarf-clad neck.

Arthur kept laughing, turning his head to kiss John’s forehead before holding onto John’s crossed arms. John squeezed tighter onto Arthur in a remedial hug until Old Boy came over to lick Arthur’s face.

“Alright, I’m done,” Arthur said, pushing himself up to his knees with John in tow.

“Hey, hey, be easy!” John exclaimed, still holding onto Arthur.

“I’m a fucking monster,” Arthur retorted, crossing his arms under John’s thighs and carrying him around the backyard.

“Arthur, you gotta watch your back!” John said.

“I’m fine, just hold on.” Arthur squeezed at John’s thighs tighter and spun them both around.

“Arthur!” John chuckled, shutting his eyes to keep from getting dizzy. “You’re gonna make us both sick.”

Arthur laughed outwardly again, coming to a stop and turning to John with a beaming grin. “You’ll be fine, loser.”


	25. In C for Two Virgins (Well, a Virgin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Arthur share the gifts they got for one another and share a bit of a morning grind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short short chapter. 
> 
> Just wanted to give an update like 'yes, i'm still alive, still writing.'

John wasn’t expecting his family to go to the same lengths he did for Arthur when it came to gift-giving. He remembered how long it took for them to figure out how to treat Abigail.

Yet here they were, Arthur’s first Christmas at the Matthews’ house and already adorned in a new beanie and scarf courtesy of Bess and Hosea without his own knowledge. Both were the same heather grey with a blue stripe woven through them to match his sweater.

John looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder to smile and scrunch his nose at his mother, his own silent way of saying thank you. Bess waved a hand and Arthur wrapped the scarf around his neck a second time while he beamed.

“Thank you very much, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews. They’re already warmer than what I brought,” Arthur said, turning over his shoulder to John’s parents.

Bess reached out and cupped Arthur’s cheek. “I’m glad you like them, sweetheart.”

John had stopped in unwrapping his gifts from his parents to watch Arthur open his. Sean sat by the tree, handing out gifts and insisted that Arthur open the one that he and Lenny both bought for him.

“It’s not much, but we saw it and knew you had to have it.” Lenny added with a shrug. 

John narrowed his eyes at his two brothers then the soft-wrapped gift wrapped in the comics section of the Blackwater Gazette. Arthur spared a polite grin at the two before him then set the gift in his lap.

“Wonder what it is,” Arthur led, poking his fingers through the newspaper and tearing it away.

John straightened his neck to look at the gift in Arthur’s lap. “What is it?”

Arthur chuckled once, unwrapping the rest of the gift before holding it up by the shoulders for John to see. John snickered, resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder.

It was an extra large emerald green sweatshirt, one that looked purposefully distressed with the bleach dots and worn-in neckline. On the front of it was a stoic buck with the phrase ‘get bucked’ over the top and bottom of it.

“Boys,” Bess said with a scolding hiss.

Sean and Lenny were already in guffaws, their father following suit; John hid his face in Arthur’s shoulder. They kept up laughing with Bess finally joining in with a snicker of her own.

“That’s a good one, guys. I love it. Thank you.” Arthur folded the sweatshirt back in his lap then pointed to the sketch-paper wrapped gifts under the tree. “I got you two something, too. It ain’t much but I hope you like it.”

Arthur’s hand reached up and rested at the back of John’s head then leaned over to peck his temple.

“You having fun?” John asked in a whisper.

“I sure am. You gonna open my gift now or later?”

John raised his head and looked at Arthur. “I got something I wanna give you later. Half now, half later?”

Arthur’s hand went to John’s cheek, pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Deal.”

In front of the family, Arthur gave John a pair of crimson gloves for the winter, a pair of slippers with plush fox heads on the toes and a leather-wrapped canteen engraved with his name.

“Arthur, I…” John opened the last gift and his mouth went dry, the curve of the silver distorted his reflection.

He looked up at Arthur, then over his head to his parents sitting back with mild surprise. John pulled away the last of the wrapping from the canteen, admired the leather braiding of the band that cradled it.

“This is beautiful,” he said, already working the shoulder band of the canteen in his hands. John didn’t know what else to say, his eyes stinging the more he looked into flat side of the canteen with his full name.

‘John Marston Matthews – Future Doctor of Veterinary Medicine – I believe in you. A.M.’

“I’m glad you like it,” Arthur said, leaning in to curl his hand behind John’s neck. “You would not believe how many John Marston Matthews I had to hunt down to find it.”

John spared a scoff, his elbow going for Arthur’s ribs. “Shut up.”

He didn’t want to think about how expensive it was, how much Arthur probably had to save up and what better things he could’ve spent it on. John hugged the canteen to his chest, puckered his lips and gave Arthur a kiss.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” John said.

He hoped that Arthur would be happy with what John got him; the thought that he might not have known Arthur as well as he thought was weighing on him. John set the canteen aside and scooted across the floor to grab the few wrapped gifts for Arthur.

“Okay, your turn,” John said, setting all of the gifts before Arthur while Sean and Lenny began to clean up the wrapping paper strewn across the room.

Though the room was buzzing and crinkling alive with Sean breaking in his new cleats with bending them and Lenny stuffing wrapping paper into a trash bag, John was solely focused on sharing with Arthur what he thought Arthur would actually love.

If Arthur believed in him so much with his veterinary excursion, John would show him how committed he was to supporting Arthur’s art career. He wanted Arthur to start simple.

He handed Arthur the pack of sketch pads first. Arthur opened them, a polite smile on his lips and uttered a quick thank you before John replaced it with the new pack of sketch pencils.

It went the same; John knew they wouldn’t compare to the extravagance that Arthur just presented to him but he felt Arthur’s appreciation the more he stared at them.

“Are they the right brand?” John whispered while Arthur opened the plastic case and ran his finger over the different pencils, the flesh-colored ones all the way to the normal graphites in different point styles.

“Of course, baby. Thank you,” Arthur said, firmly shutting the case and holding it to his chest.

John shook his head once, grabbed the next thing he was ready for Arthur to open. It was the leather-bound pencil case he’d come across, the last one with a ten-point buck’s head embossed on the front.

He wanted it to be indistinguishable from the rest of the pencil cases out there, having it embroidered with Arthur’s full initials. When Arthur opened it, he was a bit more awestruck.

Arthur held the flattened, thick leather in his hands, not knowing exactly what it was before he unclasped the buckle on it and it opened to a black felt lining marked with fifteen notches for pencils and two small pockets for erasers.

“John…” Arthur began, his smile falling as he looked up at him.

“No, you don’t get to do that. You better like it,” John joked, nudging his knee to Arthur’s.

“Of course I like it, but…this looks…”

“Shut it,” John said, poking his pointer finger out and smudging it to Arthur’s lips. “What I say, you don’t get to do that.”

Arthur was quiet, admiring the edges and the soft dark felt stamped intricately inside the leather fold. John didn’t want him to say thank you, the appreciation of the gift was more than enough.

Later that night, after the family sat down for dinner and huddled together to watch a Christmas film that Sean and Lenny begged to watch, Arthur and John sat on the bed in Hosea’s office.

They held onto the final three gifts that they had for each other, dressed in the horrifically matching pajamas Bess got them both.

“You look…stupid,” John said with a laugh, eyeing the gaudy bright red honeycomb pajamas with the word ‘nice’ written over every inch with white.

“Better than you,” Arthur retorted, nodding at John’s black pajamas of the same pattern only replaced with ‘naughty’.

John folded his bottom lip in, eyes cutting away from his boyfriend as he thrusted the first gift in Arthur’s hands. “Here.”

It was the sketch journal to match the pencil wrap, embossed and embroidered. John’s fingers held onto the edges for a moment; Arthur held the wrapped gift in his hands then watched John gently unpeel the paper from the leather cover.

“John,” Arthur said, the same pitiful way he liked to say when they were in bed. A sound of needy contentedness; his brows concaved and knitted together as he finally held the brand-new leather journal in his hand.

“Stop it, look happy,” John teased, his hand going to squeeze at Arthur’s cheeks. “If you’re like this now, I don’t know how you’re gonna make it to the end.”

“This is too much, bud,” Arthur said, flipping open the leather to a random blank page. “Between this and the other stuff. Art is not cheap.”

John smirked, scrunched his nose. “Arthur, you’re going to be an artist, right? This is just another step in that direction.”

John’s hand rested to Arthur’s shoulder, rubbed his thumb along his boyfriend’s collar. “Should I just skip to the end now so you don’t go into a panic?”

Arthur offered a tender smile in return. “It’d help but I guess I can wait. Here.”

John’s first personal gift was a pair of boxers. He couldn’t help the downright surprised snicker on his face as he opened it and on the buttoned crotch was a jar of peanut butter.

He peered around the upheld boxers to see Arthur’s wildly amused face. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Arthur was giddy, shaking his head while his smile beamed and John looked at the front of the boxers again. ‘I can do it chunky or smooth’.

“Arthur!” John chuckled, dropping the boxers to his lap. “Dirty little fucker.”

“I knew you’d like them,” Arthur said, snatching the boxers from John’s lap then tossing them at John’s face. “You better wear them.”

“I’ll put ‘em on after were done.” John added.

Arthur’s grin turned to a playful snarl and he uttered a low growl in response. “That’s my boy.”

John felt a jolt in his chest from that and nudged his foot into Arthur’s calf. “Behave. Next one for you.”

The second gift of Arthur’s was an old Bruce Springsteen record, the one that Arthur claimed as his favorite. John saw it and assumed that Arthur never had it, or maybe even a record player, but it was worth it to buy just to see Arthur’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise.

“You really going all out? After my cheesy ass gift?”

“Same amount of sentiment. I love peanut butter, you love Bruce Springsteen.”

Arthur hid a roll of his eyes, set the record to his side. “Fine. Should I just tell you what else I got you so I don’t get shown up again?”

“It’s not a competition,” John said, only for Arthur to lean in.

His nose was touching John’s, his lake eyes darting between his own. “Yes it is and I will win.”

John nudged his nose down Arthur’s until their lips were skirting against one another’s. “And what’s the ultimate prize here?”

“Love and affection, duh,” Arthur added, quickly pecking John’s cupid bow. “Second to last.”

He handed John an actual box, unmarked. John quirked a brow then pried open the box to reveal a collar. It was plain, red standard collar but the oval-shaped tag on it said ‘Old Boy’.

“It ain’t much, I know, but you do love your weird little pet and I noticed he never had a collar.” Arthur said, part of his mouth folding down in a dramatized frown. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” John said, staring in the box at the simple gift but knowing Arthur put the thought into it. He was going to call Old Boy into the room afterwards and put it on him.

For the last gifts, they both held onto them at the same time. They’d open them the same time they promised but John was nervous to see Arthur’s reaction to it.

Slowly, they both tore into the wrapping paper on their gifts; Arthur’s reveal a small cardboard box and John’s revealing a full picture frame.

Instead of looking down at the frame, John opted to turn it face down and wait for Arthur to open the second part. With a flip of his thumb the box opened and presented a silver-plated double band.

John saw Arthur visibly gulp, his eyes reflecting the shine from the ring. He was ready to recoil on his gift, hide it away and tell Arthur that them taking time was for the best.

Arthur wasn’t disgusted, his face void of any immediate reaction as he pulled free the ring from the two plushes it was wedged between then slipped it onto his ring finger. John didn’t even ask him to put it on that finger.

John was too busy watching Arthur’s face, how he immediately swirled the ring on his finger with his thumb before holding his hand out and flexing it like the ring would catch onto the light.

“You like it?” John asked in a whisper.

“I love it,” Arthur responded, his eyes suddenly misting as he brought his hand in and cradled it in his other.

He stared down at the band on his finger, still swirling it with his thumb before looking at John. Arthur lunged at him, folding John to the bed and curling his arms around his neck.

“You’re a fucking romantic, I can’t stand it,” Arthur said, resting his forehead to John’s.

John flashed a quick grin, the nauseous ooze of uncertainty evaporating from him instantly. “I was scared you’d hate it.”

“You ain’t proposing yet, but I’m taking it.” Arthur added, pulling back and pushing himself up on his arms. “Did you see yours yet?”

John shook his head, his hands folded over the frame pressed between their stomachs. He wiggled the frame free, held it out to look at the piece of torn paper nestled behind the glass.

He folded his lips in to keep them from a quiver, his own nose pinching at the sketch of him holding Old Boy with the date of Sean and Lenny’s soccer tournament.

“Who’s a fucking romantic now?” John asked, folding the frame back to his chest and staring up at Arthur. “You sure you want me to have this?”

Arthur nodded eagerly. “Of course, babe.”

John tried to roll his eyes to keep the mist from forming; he cleared his throat and sat himself up on his elbow, turning his head to stare at their pillows covered with bunches of wrapping paper.

“Cool, thanks.” John tried, though he was clutching to the frame like it was alive. “No, it’s amazing, Arthur. I-I wanna take it with me everywhere.”

Arthur huffed through his nose. “You should be careful, it is glass.”

John nodded; if he could, John would have it made into a necklace and carry it on display everywhere.

On the last morning at John’s house, Arthur woke up to John nestled under his chin. John’s arm was draped over Arthur’s waist, their legs hopelessly tangled with John’s lips at the meet of Arthur’s collarbone.

“Hey,” Arthur breathed into John’s dark hair, his fingers combing through his locks tenderly.

“Hi,” John responded, his hand tracing over Arthur’s hip before falling between their bodies.

Still half-asleep, John’s brow flinched at the feeling of stiffness. He offered a gentle purr, his curious fingers wading up Arthur’s thigh with a hum of question.

Arthur scoffed in return, pulling himself back from the top of John’s head to look down at his boyfriend’s interested hand. “You find something?”

“Like you don’t know,” John said with a stifled yawn; he raised his head and opened his eyes to Arthur.

His long hair was mussed over his eyes, his beard now close to fully grown-in. John edged an inch up to meet Arthur’s height on the bed, shifting impossibly closer to him.

“Did you want to…” John started, his hand pausing halfway under Arthur’s boxer leg revealing his thick, pale thigh decorated in thin wispy hairs.

“Fuck yes,” Arthur whispered back, his lips meeting John’s just as his hand went to tug his boxers down.

Arthur rolled over John, toppling over him before trailing his lips across John’s cheek then down his neck. John sat up on an elbow only to be urged back down by Arthur’s firm hand on his chest.

“Relax, I ain’t goin’ far,” Arthur said against John’s neck before teasing his tongue out at John’s bare shoulder then zig-zagging a few wet kisses to John’s nipple.

“Fuck, Arthur,” John said, his voice gagging in his throat as his hand clamped over his mouth. He laughed nervously, feeling the odd tingle of Arthur’s tender lips then even teeth before his tongue curled and finished it off.

John raised his head to get another kiss from his boyfriend as his dick twitched in his boxers. Arthur smiled against his lips, his short nails raking down John’s lean stomach before tearing down his boxers to his knees.

With his forehead resting to John’s, Arthur took a panting breath in then out. The smell of slick was starting to dew in the air and John’s nose wiggled as he sniffed.

“I’m gonna suck your dick now,” Arthur stated plainly, his hand taking grip of John’s dick and causing the alpha to lose his breath.

“Arthur, you don’t have…” John began but before he could finish, Arthur was ducked away from John, popping the tip of his cock past his lips.

John immediately sat up, folded over Arthur with a sustained groan and growl. His knees buckled under the constriction of his boxers while his fingers combed through Arthur’s thick hair.

He didn’t make a move, his other hand once against clamped over his mouth with a whimper as Arthur edged his tongue out against the underside and started slipping more in.

“Arthur,” John managed to utter, losing his breath the more Arthur sank down on him. His mouth was warm and wet, reminiscent of other places of Arthur’s. He gave a quick shake to his head, trying to keep the tempting memories of Arthur writhing on him from making him come too soon.

It could not be helped, especially with how rare this act was. John glanced down at Arthur between his thighs, his mouth slobbering on him as his hand held at his base. John felt the heated tingle travel up and down between his shoulders while his fingers jerked along Arthur’s scalp.

He withheld the sudden want to push Arthur further, the carnal urge wanting to abuse the only hole he was given in the moment. John whimpered, the smell of fresh slick only multiplying in the air as Arthur used his free hand to tug his own boxers down.

“No, no no no,” John muttered, using his thumb to pinch his nose shut.

The saccharine scent was already congregating on John’s tongue, only driving him further to a climax. His hand on Arthur’s head tapped gently, warning him of the imminence.

Arthur hummed in response, pulling his mouth back slightly as John’s body finally seized and his knot swelled just inside Arthur’s hand. He came just past Arthur’s plump lips, holding back his boyfriend’s name with his clamped hand over his mouth.

John crumbled back onto the mattress with Arthur releasing his mouth; he ran a hand through his dark tresses, mind reeling while the thin film of sweat on his body turned cold. He flinched in slight surprise, absolute relief, when he felt Arthur’s lips splotch up his stomach then to his chest before nuzzling his face in John’s neck.

“Let’s stay in bed,” John whispered, threading his fingers through the back of Arthur’s hair.

He leaned into Arthur, nibbled at his earlobe before going stiff at the sudden wet slotting over his sensitive dick. John glanced down, saw that Arthur was now sitting directly on his naked lap.

His slickened cheeks were perfectly parted over him; John felt the warm recognitional quiver of Arthur’s hole along his underside vein. John said nothing, only ran his hand up Arthur’s thigh to grab a meaty handful with a growl of interest.

Arthur huffed amusedly, slowly bringing his hips to grind against John. John’s eyes rolled, losing focus at the layer of warmth that was growing between them. He forced them closed, holding onto the sliver of willpower he had instilled in the bottom of his throat.

Arthur ground his way back up to John’s tip, his hole catching onto the hot head angled up and ready to scratch an itch. John’s hand clenched tighter on Arthur’s thigh with a short shake of his head.

He tried to wedge his hand down between their chests, ready to shield his tip from Arthur’s allure but didn’t make it far. John’s hand was clasped over Arthur’s cock, his thumb rubbing along his slit and earning a breathy keen from the omega.

“Yes, yes,” Arthur praised lowly, his head now raised and his arms on either side of John’s shoulders.

Prying himself from John, Arthur’s back lengthened to give the alpha a show. His shoulders still rolled, Arthur angled his hips forward and away against John’s still hard cock, dragging especially slow over his sturdy knot.

John’s eyes tried their best to catch all Arthur was showing off. His dripping cock rubbing against John’s lean stomach, the muscles in his arms flexing while the muscles of his thighs did the same. He was especially caught on the enticing jiggle of Arthur’s ass the more he ground a bit harder and faster before cum spurted out on John’s stomach.

“John,” Arthur purred, stopping in his grind to straighten up and decorate John’s chest with a few more ribbons of cum.

“Good boy,” John tried, timidly tapping at Arthur’s hip before his boyfriend collapsed to the bed next to him.

After a few regained breaths, Arthur’s eyes fluttered with the come-down. “We should leave tomorrow.”

John smirked with Arthur’s arm crossing over his chest and tangling his fingers through John’s dark tresses again. He was conscious now, aware of the slight tug on his hair when it got caught on Arthur’s ring.

“I’ll go wherever you go, whenever you want,” John muttered, grabbing Arthur’s elbow and kissing the inside of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draft tweet: 
> 
> 'Okay but imagine: 
> 
> Arthur "totally top-ular" Morgan reduced to a whiny boy on all fours grinding against John "I switch on the vibes" Marston. '


End file.
